#that's how mobile assault went. right guys.

[freaquin]

krawling in my skin

#that's how mobile assault went. right guys. #source: iasip #stranded au #ren krawler #stoica #lythirus #bakugan #gundalian invaders #bakugan gundalian invaders #bgi #bakugan battle brawlers #art #my art #artists on tumblr #aot #gundalians #meme redraw #stoica bakugan

[anthonybialy]

Truth and/or Consequences

Israel getting attacked for minding its own business offers as easy a statement about good and evil as it gets.  Naturally, the left is confused.  Baby decapitators didn’t mean to provide such an easy choice.  That’s Hamas and not Israel, for the record, which seems odd to those who claim to seek justice while doing everything they can to undermine it.  Excusers for devilishness can’t be double agents, as that would take craftiness.  Observations based in truth perplexes them the most.  They can’t determine who good guys are but surely get everything right otherwise.

The same shrewd assessors of character who thought professional serial killer Andrew Cuomo was a prophet struggle to discern who’s right and wrong in a war where bloodthirsty intruders slaughtered anyone they could find who was Jewish.  Struggling with trivialities like facts shouldn’t deter the pursuit for righteousness, so keep lecturing a country about avoiding inflicting casualties as it carefully targets those who did the precise opposite.

Fish don’t spot water.  The inability to perceive truth is not a new delusion, which is why sufferers are unaware they keep committing violations.  The same thorough reality fans urge you to enjoy a purring economy where you can buy every single item desired thanks to inflation’s irrelevance.  Spot those who get experiments wrong by how they profess a belief in science.

A righteous entity fighting for self-preservation is ordered to delay with temperance by every smug lecturer who sees violence without bothering to check who went first.  The type is crucial, too, as in how massacring festival attendees differs from collateral damage when attempting to eliminate festival attendee massacrers.  There will be a ceasefire after every single Hamas operative has been sent to their eternal destination.  They will be the only virgins.

As with the rest of liberalism, the fantasy works right up until something happens.  Drama junkies have announced what they’d do if faced with a holocaust more frequently than vegans proclaim they CrossFit.  They meant freaking out when Donald Trump ran off his mouth.  By contrast, a mass extermination of Jews doesn’t move them.  The Hamas Reich-inspired mobile extermination camp is as obvious a clue as possible, which is why they missed it.

Leftists must decide if they’re indifferent to rampant terror murder in the Jewish state, happy those they insanely and diabolically deem to be persecutors are suffering losses, or sad at the imaginary assault on Palestinian orphans that faces the technical difficulty of never happening.  They’re accustomed to depriving options, which is why they’re baffled by choice.

Evidence of atrocities in real time is insufficient for self-proclaimed science fans.  Seeing a free country attacked prompted reactions ranging from unprompted dubiousness to collaborator-style victim-shaming.  This whole global network of sharing information on glowing pocket screens should shame them, and they instead find other awful idiots to amplify their lies about the world.  Foes of civilization use instant communication to believe the Hamas Truth Squad claiming Israel cavalierly flattened a hospital.

People who know they’re better than you are divided between lecturing about how both sides are responsible and thinking the victim asked for it.  The very nuanced approach to crime blames burglars and homeowners for burglary.  Announcing the homeowner deserved it for hoarding resources that perpetuate inequality is the new complex approach to fighting lawbreaking by allowing it.

Settlers usually look for something useful, which renders the whole narrative of Israel ripping off land.  There’s a strange fixation on possessing an otherwise worthless strip in a lousy neighborhood.  Terror enablers didn’t want until Jews had it.  Anyone with a simpleton of a sibling who dealt with jealousy over an item that would go unwanted were it not possessed by a nemesis.  Extending rights to everyone within its boundaries must be part of their trickery.

Pretending the only tolerant country in the area is a terror state like America where everyone who’s not the preferred race or religion gets routinely repressed is a reflex for those who cheer from afar for the crudest Gaza-originated rockets.  They’re not going to show support in person, as Yasser Arafat’s intellectual descendants don’t allow rainbow flags for some reason.

Wanting to be left alone is the most horrifying notion possible to liberals.  A philosophy that doesn’t allow for dangerous concepts like doing your own thing is horrified by Israel sitting there and not bothering anyone.  American business proprietors sympathize.

Nagging Israel comes naturally to meddlers.  Not content with hassling successful entrepreneurs and law-abiding gun owners domestically, professional busybodies also look to irk abroad.  The annoying tendency get exponentially sinister when they ally with nefarious forces who won’t let that one Jewish republic just exist. 

The one religion that’s been persecuted more than any other sadly knows nothing on this rotten globe changes.  Accusing Judaism of colonial cruelty is nothing new to a faith that routinely gets blamed for global ills.  Wanting to live on their terms without hassling others is the conspiracy that’s true.

Twisted lectures about their need to protect civilians while pursuing human demons who actively targeted their own is merely a manifestation of wanting desperately to believe the wrong and awful thing.  If that doesn’t make sense, you understand the left.  It’s uncanny how readily professional Jew-haters wanted to believe Israel is dying to commit war crimes.  The only thing missing is actuality.

Wrongly accusing Israel of awful things truly being done to it sums up its sane and decent foes.  Seething loathing of an innocent nation valiantly fighting against the obviously guilty is not merely anti-Semitism, although palpable contempt for Judaism shows how ugly bigotry remains even as society’s trappings get prettier.

Israel represents the West, which is what genuine villains think is villainous.  Brutality’s enthusiastic defenders express a vague sense that Israel is nothing but a band of invading oppressors, which is a common complaint amongst those who benefit from the natural rights and prosperity which follows.  The class warfare front extends to thriving Jews.  Anti-Semitism is just one more symptom of deranged resentment from life’s losers.

#Israel #Hamas #Israel-Hamas War #truth #rights

[allzelemonz]

Warning Shot: Crosshair X Gender Neutral Reader

The Bad Batch was on yet another mission, one that called for a particularly precise set of skills. Crosshair sat atop a hill as his brothers caused enough chaos below for no one to notice him. He had his sights on the target, a Seppie commander. As he brought his finger to the trigger a gleam of light caught his eye. Before he could see what it was a blaster bolt hit just a few inches from his arm. A warning shot.

Crosshair got up slowly, keeping his rifle’s barrel pointed down. He tried to get a look at the other sniper, but was only met with another shot, inches from his foot. It urged him off the peak. He spoke into his comm to inform Hunter of the situation and made his way down the hill.

The Sep got away.

Crosshair sat with his brothers at a campground, all of them trying to come up with a plan to get the commander. In the end Hunter came up with a standard plan, counting on Crosshair to be expecting another sniper this time.

It would have worked too, if you didn’t practically live in trees and on mountains and rooftops. The toothpick of a clone was in your sights once again. You’d picked a spot a long time ago, anticipating what the clones would do. You knew where your employer, the Separatist Commander, would be. It wasn’t hard to guess where the clone sniper would set up.

You made absolutely sure that the sun wouldn’t reflect off of you again, because this time your shot wasn’t going to be a warning. You had your finger on the trigger and began to squeeze.

“I take another look at your target.” A sly voice advised as you felt a gun pressed against your head.

You peered through the scope again and saw nothing out  of the ordinary. Until the clone fell over. It was a decoy, a fake drawing that was mistakable at a distance. They’d tricked you.

“Why don’t you put down the blaster and come with me.” He ordered.

You let the rifle fall from your grip and got to your feet, hands in the air.

“Turn around.”

You did as he said. You faced the clone, now wondering even more how that decoy had tricked you.

“Walk.” He gestured with the blaster.

You glared at him with a hatred only someone being deprived of their money would know. The clone directed you to the bottom of the hill where he radioed his colleagues. You waited patiently, watching him in the corner of your eye. His rifle just needed to be pointed away from you for a moment.

You jumped at the chance. He’d let his rifle pint downward and you tackled him to the ground. He grunted as he hit the snowy forest floor and couldn’t react in time as you lunged at the blaster he’d dropped. You turned to shoot, but he grabbed at the weapon and kept it pointed away.

He threw a punch and you felt the throbbing pain in your jaw for a moment before the adrenaline rushed and you were able to kick him off. His grip on the rifle was better than yours, so he took the rifle with him.

You rushed to the clone, helmet now knocked off, and wrestled the rifle away. You only managed to toss it aside. You focused on the clone, trying to get a hit on him. His training was worth it because he kept blocking you punches. Eventually he managed to flip your positions, pinning you to the ground with no hope of escape.

The clone gripped your wrists on either side of your head and held your bottom half down with his own weight.

“You can let me go and I won’t bother you again.” You bargained. “I was just looking to get paid.”

“You’ll be arrested as an enemy to the Republic.” He spat.

“I’ll do anything, jail isn’t in my plans.” You pleaded.

The clone stared down at you for a moment before releasing your wrists. He sat up, still holding you down given the position.

“My team may benefit from two sharpshooters on our next assignment.”

“Yeah, yeah, I can do that!” You agreed.

Anything to get out of jail time. Pretty boys in prison do not do well. The clone stood and retrieved his weapon. You stood timidly, hoping he wouldn’t change his mind and shoot you.

“This way.” He led you further into the trees.

You followed close behind and pondered if the other clones on his team were as abnormal as him. You’d met clones before, but this one was very different. He was a bit taller, a hell of a lot skinnier, and much more… snake like?

You approached a group of clones, or maybe not? They were all different, not exactly the definition of clones. One of them was a hulking behemoth of a guy, another was missing an arm. These couldn’t be clones.

They were, in fact, clones. Wrecker had super strength, Tech had enhanced intelligence, Hunter had above average senses, Crosshair had impeccable sharpshooting ability, and Echo acquired a number of cybernetic enhancements. But, still, clones. You found it odd, but a job was a job and jail was jail.

Hunter, the apparent leader, briefed you on the mission. An assault of a Republic refugee camp was being coordinated for next week. That left you a few standard rotations to  spend with the group that called themselves The Bad Batch.

Most of that time was spent trying to outshoot Crosshair. He had you beat on natural ability, but you had the experience. Sitting in front of the target resulted in a victory for Crosshair, but an unpredictable practice round gave you the one up. There was one thing Crosshair would never be able to beat you at, holding a position. Camping a spot.

You held your spot until it was physically impossible, Crosshair was more mobile. Which meant that he had to get used to a new spot, while you had the advantage of already knowing all the angles.

Needless to say, your victories frustrated him. He was not used to being outshot. This particular training session was not going well for him. As usual, there were makeshift targets set up in the trees and Tech had programmed droids to walk around. You had taken out over half of the droids and a fourth of the targets. Crosshair had already lost. He had gotten frustrated a long time ago, and frustration did not do well for aim. He heard the rustling of leaves and looked over to see the tall clone jumping down from his perch in a tree. You gathered your things together and followed after him.

“You alright?” You called out.

He was a few yards ahead of you, walking uphill. He stopped in his tracks, clearly annoyed. You took a step back in precaution.

“Go away.” He spoke in a hiss.

You were going to do just that, but something made you stay. You walked a bit closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. He shrugged it off and turned to face you. His eyebrows were knitted together in anger and he looked ready to rip you in half.

“Look, Crosshair, I get it.” You raised your hands in surrender. “You’re having a bad day is all. It happens.”

“Every training session with you is impossible.” He seethed.

“Okay, so it’s me.” You nodded. “What can I do to help?”

“Go away.”

“That’s not gonna solve anything.”

Crosshair growled and took steps towards you. You matched his pace and backed away. You were stopped by a tree, and before you could move around it, Crosshair had a fistfull of your collar. You were pinned to the tree with a very angry clone trooper looking down at you.

“I’m sure we can work together, it’ll just take more time.” You reasoned. “We can-”

Crosshair had pressed his lips against yours. His hands moved to cup each side of your face and you felt the tenseness in him dissaperate. You hesitated for a moment before pulling him closer by the waist and kissing back eagerly.

“You’re distracting.” Crosshair mumbled against your lips after a separation.

“Sorry?” You guessed at an appropriate response.

Crosshair smirked and kissed you again, pushing you back against the tree. His hands moved up to your hair, grasping at what he could. You kept him close, a hand pushing him into you on the back of his neck. Your other hand began to trail downward, but a snapping stick made you both separate. With blasters poised you faced the source of the noise only to find Wrecker.

“Hey, guys!” He greeted. “Uh, Hunter sent me to find you because, uh, you’ve been gone for a long time.” He added a smile to the end of the statement as if there was something to be happy about.

Crosshair sighed and put his weapon away. He pushed past Wrecker and walked towards the camp. You and Wrecker stood there for a moment. You wondered if he’d seen anything.

“Hey, uh, Wrecker, can you guess why our training took so long?”

“Probably because you keep wiping the floor with Crosshair!” He answered excitedly.

“Exactly!” You encouraged.

Wrecker seemed very proud of himself as he turned around and went back towards camp. You let out a sigh of relief, getting caught making out with a clone would not be good for you right now. Crosshair probably wouldn’t be in good graces with the concept either.

#star wars #star wars clone wars #star wars clone wars x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x male reader #bad batch #crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x male reader #crosshair x female reader #crosshair x gender neutral reader #x reader #x male reader #x female reader

[jokertrap-ran]

(光与夜之恋 Light and Night) Main Story Chapter 3-16: 海水与火焰 Seawater & Flames Translation

“From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.”

*Light and Night Master-list *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Join the Light & Night Discord (＾▽＾)~ ♪ *Main story tag will be #For Light and Night

The air was heavily permeated with the acrid smell of food that had long since turned bad. 

Hemp rope, capsules, and many pieces of orange-coloured origami paper littered the ground by my feet.

MC: This is…

Every piece of origami paper that laid scattered on the ground had fold marks, some of it was even complete, folded into the shape of a butterfly.

Origami butterflies, the security guard, racing… The image of a young woman entered my mind.

Osborn: The sound we heard earlier came from over there.

I looked towards a corner of the room. There was a row of tall shelves, blocking the view of the people who were hidden behind. Light shone forth from behind the shelves, casting shadows.

I heard the hiss of tape, along with the sound of heavy and ragged breathing. The person being restrained sounded like they were in great pain.

??: I don't have the time to be playing games with you!

Osborn exchanged a glance with me. Understanding passed between us as we both silently approached the other end.

Through the gaps between the shelves, I could see the same who'd assaulted me back then. He was using hemp rope to tie a woman down on a chair.

The woman cried out, struggling vehemently against her binds. So much, that it enraged the man who then kicked her chair, making it topple right over!

MC: !

I caught sight of a familiar face the moment the chair fell onto the ground.

Lin Yao's agent!?

I felt an iciness creep up my heart. I pulled at Osborn to nab his attention and lowered my voice into a whisper.

MC: I recognize the person who's being bound to the chair. She's the mother and agent of the star, Lin Yao.

The light in Osborn's eyes dimmed a tad before he made a shushing motion.

Man: You should have thought about your fate when you locked her up in the attic back then, abusing her every day.

Man: Hurry and sign that agreement contract! ...Do you hear me!? Otherwise… Otherwise, I will make you disappear; forever!

The bound agent could only vehemently nod in response, gripping onto the pen that had been shoved into her hand and signing the contract with much difficulty.

After a period of silence, the man laughed; a laugh so solemn and tragic.

Man: This is how it should be. Her contact has been dissolved; she's finally free…

Did he kidnap the agent just to dissolve Lin Yao's contract? To grant her freedom? But I didn't interact much with her… So, why would he have attacked me?

Before I could wrap my head around it, I suddenly saw the gleam of a sharp and deadly blade flash in his hand…

Not good!

The shelf we'd been hiding behind was knocked over by a well-timed kick as Osborn threw a couple of fallen debris his way with startling speed and accuracy.

Clatter!

The small knife fell onto the ground.

The man angrily got up and turned around to see just who was behind him… Only to be surrounded and trapped by blue fire!

He wailed in pain, falling to the ground. However, his eyes remained fixated to where the contract had fluttered to a rest. He reached out to the piece of paper, grabbing ahold of it.

Was he laughing; or was he crying? I don't know. His shaky hand reached out, picking the contract up and carefully safekeeping it in his inner breast pocket.

The agent twisted, making muffled cries for help. Her once prideful and haughty face was now marred with a multitude of wounds.

I stepped up and tore the tape that sealed her mouth off.

Agent: H-Help me!

Agent: He's a madman!

Agent: You're police, right? Hurry and arrest him and get me out of here!

Agent: That madman caught me yesterday, insisting that I sign a contract to dissolve my contract with Yao'yao.

Agent: Quick! Get me the contract so that I can rip it apart!

Man: Give it a rest! Over my dead body! I won't let you control her again.

Agent: Stop daydreaming! I'm Lin Yao's mother. She WILL listen to whatever I say.

Man: You are not worthy.

Hearing the agent’s words, the man suddenly got even more agitated. His face was pinched in a pained look.

Man: Just what do you see her as? A money tree!? I should have stopped her from going with you at the orphanage back then!

Man: She was so elated when she went off with you back then, thinking that she'd finally have a family…

Agent: Back then? Are you from the orphanage too? You're a kid from that place!

Man: That's not all. I almost got adopted by you, mom.

The fragments finally pieced themselves together in my mind, forming the full picture.

Lin Yao was a child whom the agent had adopted from the orphanage, and she knew this man since childhood. Hence, Lin Yao’s friend who liked racing should be none other than him.

But for some reason or another, this was also the same man who’d vanished for a long time. After his return, he learnt that Lin Yao was being harshly treated and coerced against her will by the agent. So, he kidnapped her and coerced her to sign a termination agreement instead.

The agent instantly shot up from her spot, seemingly wanting to retort back about something. However, her body swayed twice before she fainted, collapsing onto the ground.

Osborn picked up the small discarded knife that had fallen onto the ground, holding it up and pressing it to the man’s neck.

❖☆———————————★❖

Osborn: From now on, all you have to do is to answer my questions.

Man: This has nothing to do with you, Osborn!

Osborn: Cut the crap.

Osborn: The attacks that have been happening recently. Were they all your doing?

Man: ...Yes.

After a moment of silence, Osborn took out a bracelet from his pocket…

It was the very same nameplate bracelet with the two-headed snake motif that I'd seen that day on the roof.

Osborn: This must be yours then, isn't it?

Man: My bracelet! Why do you have it!? You did THIS to me!!

Osborn: Don't move. Explain yourself.

Osborn: What purpose does this device serve?

Man: To stop us from going berserk.

Osborn turned the bracelet, angling it and pointing to the back.

Osborn: HCP18407. What is it?

Man: That's my name.

Osborn: You said "us" earlier. Who's "us"?

❖☆———————————★❖

The man seemed like he'd wanted to grin so wide that a smile split his face.

However, his skin was so bone-dry that it was clinging tightly to the bones with no give at all. It made moving a struggle for him, and the only thing that still retained its mobility was his eyes.

He laughed. Then, he shrugged his shoulders and started to whine pathetically.

Man: I don't know.

Man: We were kept captive; our names and existences erased. Everyone was given a number.

Man: Hearing, taste, touch… We were all slowly deprived of all senses

Man: In the end, we turned into beasts that had to rely on blood to survive.

He stared at the floor in a daze, his voice growing increasingly muffled.

Man: I witnessed my best bud turn into nothing but an empty shell with my own eyes. And the experiment failed on me, so I was discarded as if I was nothing but trash.

Man: I went through so much just to escape before I got annihilated. Ask just so that I could see Yao'yao!

Man: But without the daily supplement they gave, along with the bracelet's inhibition, I deteriorated by the day.

Man: When night falls, I can't stop myself from assaulting others…

Osborn: Night? But you assaulted her in broad daylight.

Osborn raised a finger and pointed back to me.

Man: I don't know. I suddenly smelt the strong scent of blood. Just like this smell now.

He raised his head to look at me with desire written all over his face. It looked as if he was positively ready to jump me the next second. Then, he struggled with himself, clutching at his neck and forcing himself to retreat a couple of steps.

Man: Her blood is potent and terribly enticing. It makes me lose my rationality. And I'd already attacked her by the time I came back to myself!

Man: I know that this is a crime, but I HAVE to survive.

Osborn fell silent for a long while before he spoke up once more.

Osborn: Who locked you guys up?

Man: I don't know… We're the basest of existence, so we're not allowed to know anything.

Man: I only know that those keeping us locked up were all people of the Blood Tribe.

Osborn: Did you see a man in his forties of medium build in that place? His glasses should have had the same motif that was on the nameplate bracelet.

The man instantly shook his head.

Man: There were only orphans there. All around the same age as me. I never saw anyone over the age of 30.

Knock… Knock…

A strange sound came from the glass windows.

Turning around, I saw a purplite bird knocking on the glass with its sharp beak.

Osborn froze, his expression instantly turned severe; something that I'd never seen on him. He released the man's collar, vehemently whipping around and tackling me.

Osborn: Get down!

CRASH!

The windows shattered, causing shards of glass to splinter in all directions!

A flock of purplite birds flew in front of the open window, swarming and attacking us all.

Osborn shielded me firmly beneath his body, unleashing his fire and making it form a barrier in front of us.

❖☆———————————★❖

The flapping of wings, the sound of impact being made; the shrill cries of the birds filled the dark room. 

It was eerie enough to make one's hair stand on end.

The situation had taken a turn for the unexpected. There were sounds of footsteps coming from all directions. The shreds of orange origami paper fluttered in the air, like the broken wings of a butterfly, obscuring our vision.

After a good long while, the cacophony dissolved, and the man from earlier was nowhere to be seen. There wasn't even a single trace of him ever being there.

MC: Osborn, he…

Osborn: Let's get back out first.

I nodded and carried the agent, who'd lost consciousness, together with him, running out the door.

❖☆———————————★❖

I was momentarily blinded by the light when we got outside. 

The abandoned building before me seemed so foreign and out of place, as if it were from a completely different world.

I couldn't help but look back at Osborn. He was holding tightly onto a watch, his gaze fixated on the two-headed snake motif on the centre of the clock face.

It was then that I finally understood; That the reason why he was looking for the bracelet up on the roof, and why he asked me what the meaning of this motif was outside the museum that day, had everything to do with that watch he held in his grasp.

And, he'd asked about someone earlier, as if he was trying to locate them.

I wanted to offer him words of comfort, but my attention was called away by the sudden shout. I turned towards the sound.

A plump man was waving his hand, running towards us.

??: Hey bro. I came here as soon as I got your message. What's up?

Osborn had already put away his watch. He glanced at me.

Osborn: He's Wen Wan. He'll send you home.

MC: What about you? Aren't you coming with us?

Osborn: There are still some things I have to clear up here.

MC: ...Are you going back to look for him?

Osborn: You've forgotten what I told you again.

Osborn: The more secrets you know, the more likely you are to-

His lips quirked up into an arc as he quietly averted his gaze elsewhere.

MC: Fine, be that way then… Stay safe.

Osborn: This is a walk in a park.

Osborn: You're that worried about me?

MC: I don't think things are as simple as it seems, and I'm worried that other dangers are lying in wait…

Osborn: Only because you have yet to realize just how dangerous I am.

He suddenly leaned down, opening my palm and depositing a handful of candy before he turned to leave, as free and easy as ever.

Osborn: She's all yours now.

I watched his gradually disappearing silhouette in the distance, tightening my hold on the bunch of lemon candy that he'd dropped off.

❖☆————— ⊹ For Light & Night⊹ —————★❖

Previous Part: (Chapter 3-14) | Next Part: (Chapter 3-19 Light) / (Chapter 3-19 Night)

#光与夜之恋 #Light and Night #Otome #Translations #Tencent #萧逸 #Osborn #齐司礼 #Sariel #陆沉 #Evan #查理苏 #Charlie #夏鸣星 #Jesse #For Light and Night

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

You’re It

[gif credit to @ehghtyseven​]

Square: Mechanic!AU ( @supernatural-jackles​ tell me a story bingo)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: Her life is falling apart around her. So she heads to her hometown to start fresh. But is she ready to take on what awaits her in Lawrence Kansas.

Warnings: Angst, abusive relationships, domestic assault, break ups, Lisa being a bitch, Death of a character, tears, strong language, smut ( 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it up boys), p in v, pwp (I think anyway)) things moving unrealistically fast but it’s a fiction so, screw realism.

Word Count: 5,400 ish

Bingo Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: This is a long one, I hope you enjoy it. :3

~

Tears streaming down her face as she drove down the long dark road on the rainy night.

All her belongings in the backseat and trunk of her car.

How she gave him so many chances was beyond her, but he is all out of chances. Out of chances to hurt her again.

An innocent dinner, and one accident brought out the beast in her, now ex-boyfriend.

She’s sure she’s still sporting the red hand mark on her face, a black eye and even a bruise on her shoulder.

But she was heading back to where it all started, her hometown of Lawrence Kansas.

She just reached the outskirts of the city when her car started to act up on her, making a scary noise that sounded expensive.

She saw a sign that caught her eye, made her think of her high school days.

Winchester Garage and Scrap.

Winchester. She knew a Dean Winchester. He was a grade higher than her; she was a junior and he was a senior when they met.

He was always so sweet to her. She even fell for Dean at one point, but it all shattered when she saw him kiss another girl at their prom. Ran home in tears.

She had no choice, her car was about to either die or explode, she had to pull in towards the parking lot.

She saw him.

He hasn’t changed at all, like he doesn’t age.

He came running out, signaling to her to shut her car off. She does as told without hesitation. The sound was scaring her this point.

Clearing her eyes of any tears, dry her face as she got out.

“That don’t sound good, lets get it looked at…” He says. “Wait, do I know you from somewhere?”

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,”

“Your junior prom and my senior prom, damn it’s been a while.” She could tell he’s just making small talk, ignoring the elephant between them.

She nods in agreement.

“You okay? Did…did someone hit you?” he saw it. She knew he saw it. Either the slap mark or the black eye. Either way, he saw it.

“It doesn’t matter Dean; can you please fix my car and I’ll get out of your hair.”

“Doesn’t matter? Someone hurt you Y/N. Come inside, I still have hot coffee going, lets get you out of this rain.”

She nodded following him inside.

 In the waiting room she heard Dean typing away getting her car checked into his system, getting her paperwork started for her, leaving a few other spaces for her to fill in but other than that, he helped her get the ball rolling.

Walking back in the waiting room he saw how small she was making herself become in the room. Something big happened to her, and she wasn’t up for sharing it with him.

He walked up to her, seeing her look up at him with her big eyes, almost puppy like. He handed her the clipboard.

“I filled out what I could for you, I just need your personal info, address, phone number, that sort of thing.”

“Okay.” She says, setting down the coffee and taking the clipboard and pen.

He only saw her write down her phone number.

“You don’t live in town anymore?” he asked curiously.

“No I didn’t, but I’m moving back now.”

“Look, I know something big and bad went down between you and someone. I just…it pisses me off that someone hurt you.”

“You still care about me, why is that?”

“You were my girl; I still consider you my girl. I don’t know what I did that pissed you off, you never wanted to hear from my side.”

“You were kissing another girl on prom night, I saw you.”

“A girl, oh, you mean Abaddon, she’s had a huge crush on me and forced herself on me.”

Her heart was pounding hard against her.

“She…did she did more?”

“No, I pushed her off. And I went to look for you, and when I couldn’t find you, I knew what her plan was.”

“She did that on purpose, in hopes I’d see it and break up with you. So you’d be up for grabs for her…that bitch!”

“Y/N, that was almost ten years ago now, she married Michael, and they been married for about three years now…let it go.”

She hid her face in embarrassment, forcing the tears back.

“I was with Lucifer,”

“Michael’s brother, why he’s such a dick?”

“He comforted me after what I saw. And after I graduated, I followed him to LA. We tried to be together but he just…kept hurting me.”

She saw his jaw clench tight. A vein popping from the side of his neck. He was pissed, beyond pissed if there ever was such thing.

“First was he hit me when I didn’t want to have sex with him, I told him it was too fast. He broke my nose in the process. I left him for a few days, and he came crawling back, apologizing. I gave him a second chance. Second, he hits me when I was trying to talk to him…about something, I don’t remember. I woke up in the hospital with a concussion. The story was I fell down the stairs. He apologizes to me and I told him he has one last chance…”

“Y/N, why were you giving him so many chances?”

“I thought he loved me. But after tonight, I guess he never really loved me.”

“Does he know where you went?”

“I never told him, he stormed out of the house to a bar most likely. I packed up everything and just left. I may have sped rather…fast, I just wanted to get away from him.”

“Well, you’re safe here sweetheart.”

Her lips twitched upward in a small smile.

“What about you Dean? Did you find someone?”

“Not really, nothing but break ups. Lisa and I had a bad break up just recently. Told me how weak I was for not trying.”

“What, trying what?”

“Just being with her. I was always at work, away at college, going to classes. Working my old job with my Uncle, and then opening this bad boy. She thought I wasn’t trying. But really I was making this all for her, and the family she wanted. But I guess that wasn’t good enough for her.”

“No Dean, she wasn’t good enough. She was being a bitch.” She encourages.

“I guess, but now I’m just wanting to be single for a bit. Maybe the right girl will show up.” he smirks.

“Dean…we both have been hurt, let’s just go slow. Lets try to be friends again first.”

“I can live with that.” He says. “Lets get your car in here.”

He managed to push her car in, having her steer it in the garage.

“I’ll work on it first thing in the morning.” He mentions. “Now, since you just got into town, you probably don’t have a place to stay, do you?”

“Well, my dad is still here. I’m gonna stay with him.”

“Didn’t you hear what happened though?”

“I know, he’s been down hill since mom died from Cancer. He practically gave up. I hope I can help lift his spirits now that I’m home.”

“Well that, but there’s something else. Yesterday, did he tell you?”

She shook her head.

“He was diagnosed with prostate cancer. It had already spread, it’s too advanced for treatment. My dad told me.”

Her heart sank. “He didn’t mention that to me. But he did sound different when I spoke to him.”

“Do you want me to go with you? Get you settled in?”

“Please.” Her eyes glistened with more tears. “I don’t want to go alone; I don’t know what I’m in for when I see him.”

“It’s okay sweetheart, let’s get your things in my truck and we’ll get going.”

“Do you still have her? The impala?”

“I do, she’s tucked away at my house in the garage. I take her out once in a while. Maybe tomorrow I can give you a ride in her. Take your mind off things.”

“I’d love that Dean, thank you.”

Giving her a kind smile, he began moving her things from her car to his truck. Pulling the tarp cover over the bed to protect whatever he got in the bed of the truck.

 Driving through the streets of Lawrence she looked out her window, seeing all that has changed.

“So, what do you do since High school?”

“I’m a writer.”

“Oh nice, got any books out yet?”

“I have a few out there. All romantics.”

“Working on anything new?”

“No, been kind of in a rough spot lately.”

“Oh, with…I gotchyou now. Well, don’t worry, I’m sure once things calm down it’ll come to you.”

“I hope so.”

He pulled down the familiar street. The same street she grew up on. Pulling into the familiar driveway seeing the familiar family house.

“He’s still here, after all these years.”

“Yeah, my guess is he misses your mom, you, your brothers.”

She nods, getting out.

She walks up the path to the front door, Dean behind her carrying some of her bags.

She see’s one of her brothers stepping out of the house.

“Hey shortie.”

“Hey big bro.” she says. Getting a big hug from him.

“You want us to hunt this fucker down?”

“No, he’s not worth it.” she says pulling away.

“Hey Dean,”

“What’s up Peirce.”

“Nothing new. Oh, Becky and I are expecting, she wants to invite you to the baby shower.”

“That soon?” Y/N asks.

“You remember Becky?”

“Oh that Becky, okay, I get why she’s doing it this early.” She giggles. “She should wait, what if it’s a girl and you got all boy stuff? Or a boy and all girl stuff?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure she has a plan for it.” He says. “Here, come in guys.”

“How’s dad?” Y/N asks entering into the foyer.

“Not good. His nurse is here. She thinks, with him knowing his family is here he might be heading out soon.”

She nods. “I haven’t even seen him yet.”

“Don’t worry, you’ll see him tomorrow. Because I’m sure he wants to see you.”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, looking up at Dean he gives her a sweet smile.

“She has her stuff in my truck if you want to help me move her in?” Dean asks.

“Sure thing.”

Her brother and Dean begin making trips from his truck to the house. While she wonders the house. Seeing everything as she left it. Finding a picture of her mom with her, her dad, and her two brothers. A tear finding it’s way to the surface, a tight feeling building tighter in her chest.

So much has happened so far, and she is making a big change in her life.

Hearing the door close takes her out of her haze.

“Alright that’s the last of them, Y/N, I’m gonna head. I’ll pick you up around eight, Fridays are my short days.” Dean says coming up behind her.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

Dean nods with a smile, offering a hug. She doesn’t hesitate. She needed a hug.

He takes her in close and tight to his chest.

“You’re okay now, you’re safe. Everything is going to be okay sweetheart.” He whispers.

She nods against his chest. Holding back the tears.

He pulls away, giving her one final smile before kissing the top of her head.

“See you tomorrow.” He says. She nods again as he walks out the door, heading home.

“Sis?”

“I’m not okay.” She chokes out before a sob wracks through her.

Her brother doesn’t hesitate in hugging her quickly as she broke down.

“It’s okay baby sis, I’ve got you. No one is going to hurt you  again. Like Dean said, your safe.”

She nods as she cries against her big brother.

 The next morning she woke up, still heavy with memories of last night but the light for a hopeful future tried to beat down the heaviness she felt.

She got up to take a quick morning shower.

Once she got out and cleaned up she saw her nurse in the kitchen getting what looked like a water mug.

“You my dad’s nurse?” she asked sweetly.

“I am honey, he’s doing okay right now, but his body is getting tired.”

“I know, my mom was the same with her cancer.”

“It can take a big toll on the body. If you want to see him he’s up.”

She nods. Not thinking twice she heads up to his room. Seeing her dad lying in bed, peacefully dozing off.

“Hi daddy.”

“Hey buttercup.” He says groggily with a smile.

He saw the remaining evidence of last night.

“Do I need to send my boys after that son of a bitch?”

“No dad, he’s not worth it. He doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Good. You know you always have a home here.”

She smiles, taking a seat on his bed. Taking his hand in hers. Her dad rubbing a thumb atop her knuckles.

“I know this sucks sweetie, you getting back after all this time and I’m dying.”

She shakes her head. “Don’t worry about me dad. I got Peirce and Zane, and Dean too.”

“You and that boy back together?”

“We’re just trying for friends right now dad. We both have been through really shitty relationships.”

“He made you so happy.”

She nods. “I know dad, he still does. He’s taking me out for a ride in his car when he gets off at the garage.”

“That’s nice of him.”

She nods.

“Sweetheart, there’s something I need to tell you as well.”

“What is it?”

“You’re getting this house, I want you to have a family in this house so you can tell your kids all the good stories, the bad stories. Tell them you grew up in this house.”

“Dad, I don’t know if I can…”

“The boys are moving back, Zane got himself a job with John Winchester on the police force.”

“Zane still a cop, even after all the crap that’s gone down?”

“He’s a strong man now.”

She nods. “That he is.”

“Peirce and his wife, his wife got a job as a news anchor here, and he is gonna work with Dean in the garage.”

“He never mentioned that to me.”

“Yeah, Peirce has a knack for fixing up cars. Then again, Dean did show him all sorts of stuff after you left. He didn’t know what to do.”

“Then again, he and Dean did graduate at the same time.”

“Yes, that too. But the family is going to be here.” Her dad says, bringing a hand up to her cheek, brushing a thumb across her cheekbone. Her hand helping him hold it there.

“It’s going to be okay Buttercup. You won’t be alone here.”

“I know daddy.”

“I love you all so much.”

She fought the sobs so hard, she brought herself down to his chest, hugging him gently.

“I love you too Dad.”

 That afternoon, she spent some time walking around the town. Seeing things being the same and different all at once. She saw what used to be Dairy Queen get turned into a Starbucks.

Taking her dad’s car she drove around the town, even finding Dean’s garage not far from the city limits.

Pulling in, she decided to stop by and visit.

Walking in she saw a line of people, one woman growing impatient turning around to leave.

This is a bad time. She thought. Until she saw a certain someone at the desk.

“Dean?”

“Hey Sweetheart,” Dean says, typing away. “I would love to visit but I’m really busy.”

“Can I help?”

“You want to help?”

“Yeah, just show me the desk work, I want to help you out.”

“Okay, come around here.”

Dean showed her how to fill out the information in the computer system, giving the customers their papers to fill out.

Showing her how to process them through the system. Showing what to do when the work is done, and what to do at the end of the day.

He was shocked at how fast she worked on the computer. Typing faster than he could. The line got shrunk down quickly, everyone getting checked in.

“Nice.”

“I am a computer nerd too after all.”

“I forget, you’re like Sammy.”

“Now, get to work so we can catch up.”

He chuckles as he turns around to the garage, getting everyone’s cars in and working on them.

Peirce popping in covered in oil and grease.

“Hey sis, got anymore?”

“One more, You guys are quick.”

“A lot of it is oil changes and tire rotations. Some are break pad changes. So, some simple ones.”

“Last one is a rattling noise in her engine.” She says handing him the file.

“Alright, I’ll get to it.” he says taking the file with the keys attached.

She smiles rolling her eyes, shaking her head. In the back of her mind, she thinks she may have found a good day job. It’s simple, fast paced for sure, but she loved doing it, nonetheless.

The workday was coming to a close, Y/N finishing up the paperwork.

“Y/N, We’re done, Dean’s also almost done with your car.” Peirce says coming in behind her.

“Okay.”

“You drove that thing hard, talk about perfect timing.”

“How bad was it?”

“Well, a cylinder burst, and the belt broke. That thing was about to blow.”

“How was he able to fix the cylinder?”

“Chevy’s are easy to come by. He had the right parts, and he was able to fix that, and get you a new belt.”

“He was in here last night wasn’t he, he didn’t go home.”

Peirce held his hands up. “You have to talk to him about that one.”

She shook her head. “Somethings going on, I know it.” she gets up from the desk and heads into the garage.

Seeing him working under the hood of her car.

“Dean, did you go home at all last night?”

“Why?” he asks, grunting as he tightened parts to her engine.

“Its just, engine work, now I’m no expert but that takes a lot of time to work on. Sure you had the parts but, to be done with my car this fast when any other shop would be done with it in a few days. You got done with it in one.”

He got up, wiping his hands. “What are you trying to say?”

“Is there a reason you’re not wanting to go home? Working at odd hours?”

“You sound just like Lisa.” He grumbled.

“Dean, I’m just worried about you is all. I don’t want you working yourself to death.”

“I’m not working myself to death.”

“Then why were you here last night and not at home resting?”

His jaw clenched, not wanting to talk about it.

“Dean, if you’re wanting to try again, you have to open up a bit. I opened up everything I could to you yesterday.”

He looked down at his hands, wiping his hands out of nervous habit.

“We both might have something in common, we had abusive relationships.”

“She…she didn’t…”

“She’d hit me, punch me. And for a small girl, she can hit. She had no reason. I’d come home late, she’d hit me, hurt me. I get home early, same thing. She wanted more with me, but I didn’t. All the late hours working, was to stay away from her. I moved out after I broke up with her. she knows where I live. One night she tried to…”

“Did you call the police, get a restraining order on her?”

“I did, but it doesn’t matter, apparently when guys go through this it’s no big deal.”

“It is too a big deal Dean.”

They sat in silence for a beat, Y/N trying to think what she could do.

“Can’t you move again?”

“I could but I don’t want to move too far from work, you know.”

The sound of tire screeches outside tore them from their conversation.

Peirce came running in as fast as he could.

“Dean, dude, she’s coming!”

“She, as in?” Y/N asked.

“Yes, Lisa. And dude, she’s pissed.”

“Call your dad, now Dean.” Y/N ordered.

Dean did as told. When another set of tires came tearing in.

“Winchester!”

Y/N saw red. Abusive partners, she was getting really tired of how sick and ugly people would get with people they ‘loved’.

She was in auto pilot. She marched out of the garage and towards Lisa.

“Out of the way bitch.”

“He’s not in there skank.”

“The fuck did you call me?”

“Apparently you’re deaf too, here, let me say it slower for you. Skank.”

“You fuckin’ bitch!” she screams. And begins throwing punches at her, wildly.

Y/N able to dodge most of them, blocking the others that got close.

“Y/N stop, the cops are coming!” Peirce warned.

“I’m not doing anything she is!”

“Fuck off!” Lisa screamed.

Dean came into view from the garage. Tearing Lisa’s attention from Y/N to him.

“There you are, the fuck are you doing?”

“We’re done Lisa, I told you.”

“You don’t get to end shit with me Winchester.”

Peirce got himself between her and him, y/n not far behind.

Lisa landed a strong punch on Peirce.

Y/N’s eye’s bulged in rage. She had grabbed onto Lisa’s shirt from behind, pulling her away from her brother before she could land another punch on him. But pulling her so hard she lost her footing and fell on her rear.

“You don’t touch him, or my brother you hear me bitch!”

“The fuck you care, you left him first!”

“At least I didn’t lay a hand on him.”

Lisa jumped up, ready to throw more punches, when a man in uniform. John Winchester came in behind, pulling Lisa’s arms behind her, cuffing her.

“What the fuck!”

“You’re under arrest for domestic assault and aggravated assault.” He says firmly.

“Bull shit, you got no proof!”

“I have my POV cam on honey, I was sitting not far from you. I saw everything.”

“Fuck off!” she screeched.

“No one hurts my son and gets away with it. Lets go.” He pulls her to his cruiser.

Y/N turned her attention to her brother.

She saw Dean sat next to him, handing him an ice pack.

“You okay Peirce?”

“Damn she can throw a punch.”

“Yeah, she’s bad news.” Dean goes.

“Yeah but ignore that, my sis is super woman, she just fucking tossed her like she was nothing!” Peirce laughed with a proud smile.

“Well, no one hurts my family and gets away with it.”

She saw Dean nod lowly. “And no one hurts my friends and gets away with it.”

Dean looks up at her, a confused furrow on his brow before he smiled sweetly at her comment.

“Now I think someone is safe to go home from work now.” She says.

“Yeah, thank god she’s been caught.”

 She drove her dad’s car back home, seeing more cars by her dad’s house.

Getting out, she hurries inside.

The house full of family members she hasn’t seen in years.

Her nurse coming down the stairs.

“He just took a turn; I suggest saying your goodbyes.”

Her eyes filled with thick tears; a sob tore at her throat.

She felt two pairs of hands on her shoulders. Looking to her right she see’s Peirce. And Zane on her left.

The siblings head upstairs to his room. Their dad laid there, his breathing labored and shallow. Clearly suffering.

Zane taking one side of the bed, Y/N and Peirce walking around to the other side. The three holding their dads hand.

“Daddy, we’re here. Everything is okay.” Y/N says.

“Yeah dad, we’ll be okay. We’ll look after Y/N.” Zane says.

“I’ll take good care of the house.” Y/N adds.

“We’ll take care of each other.” Peirce adds after her.

His breathing quickened, pained. They squeezed his hands.

“Daddy it’s okay, you can rest now. We’ll be okay.” Y/N says, holding back the tears.

They felt their dad give a slight squeeze of their hands before his hand going limp.

He let out his last breath, his monitors flatlining.

Y/N let out a pained sob as her hands flew to her mouth to hold back yells of the pain of loss.

Pierce quickly brought his sister in his arms. Zane walking around the bed, hugging his brother and sister as they allowed themselves to cry.

 It seemed like forever, they exited the room, slowly descending the stairs.

Y/N see’s Dean by the door. She quickly descended the last few steps and walks over to him.

Dean didn’t hesitate to hold her closely as she cried against him.

“Shh, it’s going to be okay sweetheart. I got you.”

After an hour of hanging with the family, their extended family leave for the night. The brothers staying, Dean as well.

They sat in the family room, Y/N sitting against Dean, Peirce sitting with his wife and Zane sitting on the end of the couch.

“If you want, one of us can stay here with you.” Peirce says.

“But babe, the baby shower.” Becky begs.

“I think it can hold until I feel okay again, please.”

“Okay, that seems fair.” She says. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay baby.” Peirce says, kissing atop Becky’s head.

“I think I’ll be fine,” Y/n says.

“I can stay with her. Besides, I don’t feel safe at my house despite Lisa being arrested and everything.”

“You’re more than welcome Dean.” Zane says.

Peirce nodding in agreement. “Totally.”

“Besides, we probably should go, get some rest and all that.” Peirce says, after seeing Becky yawn.

They all got up from the couch, exchanging hugs with their sister and sister in law.

“Call us if you need anything okay shortie.”

“Will do big bro.” she smiles

 That night, she got out of the shower with red puffy eyes. She managed to get totally dried off and dressed for bed.

Heading to her room she finds Dean dressed in his pajamas.

“Hope you don’t mind sharing.”

“I don’t mind really. Because, screw going slow, I need you right now.” She says a sob cracking through the surface.

Dean hurries to her, bring her in his arms.

“I’m right here sweetheart, I’m not going anywhere.” He whispers.

He manages to help her into bed, he climbs in on his side of the bed and quickly wraps his arms around her as she continued to cry her eyes out.

He holds her close, placing a kiss atop her forehead, a silent promise that he’s there.

 She woke up the next morning, feeling like she didn’t sleep a wink.

She saw the bed was empty, no sign of Dean but the kitchen smelling of breakfast.

She gets up and heads down to the kitchen. Seeing him dressed and by the stove cooking bacon and eggs.

“Morning beautiful girl.”

“Morning handsome.” She smiles.

“How do you like your bacon?”

“Well not burnt.”

“Come on, crispy bacon is good!” he says playfully.

“Blah!” she fake gags.

Dean rolls his eyes with a chuckle.

“I take it you didn’t sleep good.”

“No, I’m tired.”

“Well, I’m off today. My shop is closed on the weekends. So, we can stay in, clean up the house. Or I can take you on that drive.”

“I want to see baby.”

“A drive it is.”

 After a delicious breakfast, she quickly showers off last nights tears. And dresses quickly, eager to see his 67 impala.

She walks out the door to find it parked in her driveway behind her dad’s car.

Dean sitting on her hood.

“She’s still as beautiful as ever.” She says walking up to him.

“Not as beautiful as you.”

“Stop you hopeless romantic.”

He chuckles hopping off the hood.

“I’m only a hopeless romantic for you.”

She giggles.

“There’s that smile, ready for a nice drive?”

“So ready.”

He walks around to the driver side as she gets in the passenger side.

 He managed to find a nice spot in an abandoned field, overlooking the city of Lawrence.

“Thank you Dean, I really enjoyed this.”

“Glad you did. I enjoyed having you here.”

She looks up towards him, her lips finding his in a sweet and loving kiss.

She felt his hand come up behind her head, brushing through her hair, as he deepened the kiss.

“Sweetheart, if we keep this up, I’m not gonna last.”

“It’s okay Dean,” she says against his lips. Kissing him hard.

He adjusts himself; she adjusts herself with him as he gently guides her down to her back. His hands exploring her body, her hands feeling his strong arms, shoulders, and chest. Shedding their clothes as everything escalates, their lips not leaving.

She laid their completely bare and naked before him. She can feel his eyes roam her body; she felt the urge to hide herself away.

“So gorgeous.” He whispers.

His lips finding hers again, distracting her from his member hardening against her thigh.

She ground her hips against him, pulling a grunt out of him. He pulls away from her kiss.

“Are you sure?”

“Like I said last night, I don’t care anymore right now, I need you Dean. I’ve missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, you sure?”

“So sure, you are it.”

He smiles proudly, kissing her again as he slowly brought himself into her.

She moaned against his lips as he got himself completely seated within her.

“You good?”

“So good.” She says, grinding her hips, urging him to move.

He begins a steady rhythm, not too hard or rough. Just making her feel good, good enough to forget all that has happened int heir life.

His hands braced against he passenger, the window down giving him a good grip as he drove into her.

“Fuck, faster Dean.” She begs.

His hips begin speeding up in intensity, drawing them closer to their end.

“Fuck sweetheart, you feel so amazing.”

“You too baby,” she pants.

A familiar heated coil builds up in intensity in her belly with every pounding he gave her. He began to speed up, he was close as well.

“Fuck Dean, close…”

“Go for it baby.” He pants.

Her walls clamp hard around him, spurring him into his end as she could feel a rope of thick, sticky come spill out of him. As he came with a guttural groan, her name falling off his lips.

His hips spudder against her as he kept coming, throwing her in a second orgasm, her legs shaking around him as she wrapped them around his waist. His name fall off her lips in a small scream as she came.

His hips thrust slowly to a stop as they came down from their highs, his lips finding hers once again.

“You okay sweetheart?”

“Much better, now that I have you.”

He smiles proudly again before kissing her again. His hips coming to life again.

“You got the stamina of a teenager, you know that.”

“You’re worth making love to for hours baby, you up for round two?”

“Give it to me baby.”

 She can’t help but think of all that’s happened in the course of twenty four to forty eight hours.

She left her boyfriend who never truly loved her, returned home to start fresh.

Thankful she found her first love still waiting for her, ready to give her all the love he was about to give her.

As he drove down the long stretch of road back into town, she sat close to his side with his arm around her. Feeling his warmth radiating off of him. She snuggles close to him. Feeling him give her an assuring squeeze as he drove back to her house.

She was ready for what life was about to throw her way with her knight in shining armor for who she knows she can trust with all her heart, and who she knows really loves her.

~

A/N: What’d you think? Let me know, feedback is always appreciated. :3

~

Dean Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker​, @jayankles​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @flamencodiva​, @akshi8278​, @megzdoodle​, @misfit0118​, @anotherspnfanfic​, @shawnie74​, @lyarr24​, @missmemoire09​, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67​

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 4/18/2021

#spn #supernatural #spn au #mechanic!au #mechanic!dean #dean x reader #spn fan fic #spn fanfic #spnfanfic #spn fan fiction #spn fanfiction #spnfanfiction #supernatural fan fic #supernatural fanfic #supernaturalfanfic #supernatural fan fiction #supernatural fanfiction #supernaturalfanfiction #dean x reader fic #deanxreader #dean winchester #dean winchester fan fic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x reader fic #dean winchester x reader #mechanic!dean x reader #tell me a story #tell me a story bingo

[tippytopdays]

Just a Typical Morning

literally slapped a fresh coat of paint on this little thing and did some proofreading, posting here because it's not really a story i feel like belongs on my Ao3

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A snap. A small flare of light. A hiss. The light goes out with a brief spike of pain. The scent of nicotine filling his lungs, sitting there for a moment before being lazily huffed back out. He rolled the cig between his teeth, canines catching the paper.

For once, it was a slow day. Quiet too, if the silent city ruins said anything about it. No howling of some crazy Zed in the alleyways, no rushing of cars; nothing. Then again it’s probably something like, 6AM if he thought about it, since the sun wasn’t high enough yet to count as day.

Well as close to day as it could get, he assumed. It wasn’t like he knew anything else, anyways.

Deimos gripped the cig between his fingers, watching the flecks of tobacco sprinkle over the railing. The balcony was small, granted, but it was enough. Throw on a piece of metal or two along the railing and it even made for some quick cover if there was an attack. Overhead assault was harder to avoid, especially from so high up.

The end of the cigarette glowed dimly as he inhaled, smoke trailing into the air.

He didn’t like being up this early. It was too quiet.

Normally by now he would probably be going downstairs to fetch some grub from the cafeteria with Ford, talk about their evenings or whatever else would come up. Sometimes he’d be scrambling to get his gear on to check whatever combusted in the lower levels. Of course if it was the mercs just screwing around and breaking whatever had gotten mixed up with their roughhousing then he’d get upset. Fixing that shit isn’t easy you know, but it wasn’t worth straining his voice anyways; Ford could do that for him in spades.

He sighed in a soft plume of smoke. Really, what else can you do when the hired help has to be a bunch of knuckleheads, anyways?

Whatever it was, he definitely wasn’t throwing any parties for them that’s for sure. Last thing anyone needed was those guys keeping everyone up all night by being loud as fuck.

Another drag, a slight shake in his fingers as they met his lips.

His arms hurt like Hell from having to spend so long rewiring that at this point he was surprised they were even remotely steady at all. And when he thought about it him waking up at the ass end of dawn because the comms had crashed again was probably a good reason as to why he was up so early. Digging around in cramped crawl spaces was not how he wanted to spend his day; and being tossed into a late night mission on top of it was even lower on that list.

Damn his bed seemed real inviting, early morning or not.

When was the last time he’d slept in? Or just had a day off? Sure they’d had low days along with the high ones, but when did they get an actual break where they could relax? The last time there wasn’t some kind of emergency or chaos outside their doors was at least a decade ago at this point, maybe less. He didn’t really have it in him to care much, since he didn’t keep track of the days anymore. No point to it.

More smoke filled his lungs. He really should just get some extra shut eye, rest until he felt better.

But, for some reason, he couldn’t.

He’d snapped to awareness with a cold feeling of dread weighing down his stomach. It had been so strong he’d shot up, halfway reaching for the pistol at his bedside thinking someone was there. But there wasn’t. It was dead quiet, like the moments after a bad mission.

Maybe that’s why he was outside right now. The casual air helped to mask the intent in his eyes as he scanned the skyline.

A glint of reflected light from a nearby rooftop nearly made him crush the cig in his hands as he tensed. Eyes snapping upwards he focused, but relaxed when all he found was a few familiar faces among one of the many teams patrolling the area. He snorted, smoke curling around his face.

Another pull, the cold wash of nicotine a nice cleanse to the tension in the air.

He was overthinking this.

And after all they’d been through, who could blame him really? Being constantly on the run would make anyone look over their shoulder or keep a gun within reach. Still, it wasn’t like the Agency knew where they were this time. To add to it nothing could get through the blast doors even if it tried. They’d tested those well enough for him to be certain.

It was just a very quiet night and he wasn’t used to it. That had to be it.

The cig smoldered between his lips in one last drag before he flicked the used butt over the railing. Arms raising over his head he stretched with a groan, “Damn,” He muttered, wincing at the series of pops going up his spine, “Ya’d think I’m getting old with how I crack like a handful of spaghetti.”

He was done with his morning smoke anyways.

Mobility returned to his spine Deimos rubbed at his neck he turned his back to the city, meandering back inside. Hitting the switch beside the glass door to slide it shut behind him he glanced at the clock on the comically cluttered bedside table he owned. Yep, too early for him to be this awake, if the glaring red 7:37 was anything to go by. Well mostly glaring, since his cap was haphazardly draped over it when he’d tossed it there yesterday. Or last night, he didn’t look at it then because he was too busy flopping face first into bed.

A healthy gurgling from his stomach brought him out of his thoughts.

That’s right. He didn’t eat last night either. Not really any time to when you’re face first into the ugly end of some bastardized wiring job done nearly half a decade ago. He hummed under his breath.

Was it too early to get something from the cafeteria? It was still morning he supposed; maybe some breakfast sausage would be left this time since he’d be able to get there first for once. The thought alone was tantalizing despite the exhaustion tugging at the edge of his conscious.

Did he even change after all that sweatshop work yesterday?

Pulling at the hem of his tank top he took a whiff. Yep, stunk of old sweat and probably a hint of grease; he didn’t. Pants probably didn’t smell too great either but who would check those and not come off like a weirdo? A quick sweep of the cargo pants half hanging off his hips proved them to be good enough with no obvious stains or rips.

Deimos shrugged. It was good enough. At least he didn’t stink of blood or anything, otherwise Doc would be on his ass hard. Though it wasn’t like anyone would be able to tell the difference in this sausage fest anyways. He’d be fine for a quick early morning bite.

Just needed to grab his jacket and boots and he’d be good to go.

Deimos scratched the stubble lining his jawline while he scanned the room. He’d taken off his jacket somewhere mid collapse but he couldn’t place where. He wasn’t one to lose things—most of the time at least—but sometimes it felt like they just up and disappeared. With his luck it would probably end up in a really obnoxious place like behind the bed or something. Not like that would happen since the thing was braced up against the wall in the corner so it had to be somewhere around here.

He paused when he noticed the distinctly leather looking lump laying on the floor beside said furniture.

Oh. There it is.

Approaching the bed he picked up his jacket off the floor. It still had some dust from when he’d been crawling through the vents last night as he swiped a hand over the shoulder. He grimaced at the sticky webbing that stuck to his fingers; a few cobwebs, too. Gross. Shaking it to clear out any excess dust he threw it on haphazardly, adjusting his pants once it was snugly over his shoulders. Belt tightened up again he’d turned towards the table and nearly tripped over his own boots.

Welp, at least those weren’t far either. Glad he’d had half the mind to take those off before crashing.

Cursing a bit under his breath he snatched his cap off the clock. With a quick sweep of his hand through his hair to straighten it a bit he put his hat on and sat on the bed, scooting his boots closer with a foot. Once they were laced up and buckled he got to his feet, ready for the day—or at least, the really early morning.

He glanced at the clock again. It blinked lazily at 8AM.

Eh, early enough. But the call of some sweet breakfast sausage was not to be ignored.

The moment he turned towards the door there was a series of firm knocks. He jumped, nearly tripping again as he cracked out, “Uh, yeah?” Damn that cig wasn’t enough apparently because his nerves must still be fried from that morning.

“Deimos, it’s me.”

His lips quirked a bit, confused. Normally, Doc only went after him when something broke or got jammed up again but a glance at the tablet resting on the table face up didn’t reveal a blinking light for a missed message. Unless something went wrong in the handful of seconds he’d been standing there then why was he trying to talk to him now of all times, “Hang on.” Tromping across the room he swiped his code in, the door opening with a hiss.

Doc was standing in front of his room, arms behind his back and head turned away as he kept his focus down the hall before turning to face him. He scanned him head to foot, “You look like shit.”

Deimos rolled his eyes with a huff, “Good morning to you too, Doc.” Leave it to him to state the obvious. Not like he didn’t already feel like crap in more than a few ways. He propped an arm against the door as he nodded towards him, “What’s up?”

2B stood a bit straighter, and just by his posture alone he had a feeling that whatever he was going to say wasn’t good, “Boss called in this morning, we have another assignment.”

Well he wasn’t wrong.

Deimos sighed, traces of smoke licking at his tongue as he tossed his head back, “Seriously? Now? Doc I haven’t eaten yet.” As if to prove his point his stomach made yet another unhappy glug. Both men glanced down, the tech sweeping a hand towards it with brows raised.

“I can tell.” Doc merely returned his gaze placidly, “Have you seen Sanford yet?”

He shook his head, “Nah. Haven’t left until now.” Though if he were to take a guess, he’d say the demolition’s expert would be working out somewhere.

It seemed they shared the same thought as 2B nodded, “I assume he might be downstairs at this hour. I did hear some commotion from one of the training decks.”

He chuckled a bit. Typical Ford.

“I want you to be ready within the hour, Deimos. You’ll get to eat when you get back. I’ll tell the staff in the kitchen to keep something in the oven for you.” He turned around, fully intending to leave before adding, “And also, get some washing done when you get back. You smell like a corpse.” With that he took his leave while Deimos scowled at his back.

Great. Of course it would be doc who’d notice.

Still he only sighed, punching the code into the panel to lock the door behind him. Getting his gear from the locker he had downstairs would only take a couple of minutes, and Ford should already be up if he was taking up a training room.

Just another day in Nevada, per the usual.

Things never really change.

#madness combat #Deimos #2BDamned #my writing #fun

[boogiewrites]

Never Break the Chain Pt. 2

Part 2 of 5

Characters: Javier Peña x OFC

Summary:  Javier and Esme's first time seeing each other in almost twenty years. A photograph leads to an obsessive hunt for the woman he thought was dead. They both find they got where they wanted. But is it what they want now?

Warnings/Tags: Tension. Big reunited kiss. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

Time passes, as it always has and always will. It stopped for no man, not even Javier. Seeing his first love fade into nothing had left him a different man. Walls came up, barriers were built that his enemies would even be impressed by. She’d done him a favor, snapping him out of the young man’s dream, but he felt he had nothing left but trying to help once she was gone. So he threw himself into his work.

Sure there were other women. He thought he loved some, but would always leave them. He always hurt them and that wasn’t his intention precisely but they would thank him years later. He was what they would refer to in close company as “a dodged bullet”. He’d been called far worse.

He despised his cliche reactions to his trauma sometimes. Drinking, smoking, being a general pain in the ass, renowned and proud asshole was easier. Burying yourself in prostitutes and let them take away the thoughts for a little while was the easiest. He would fantasize he could help them, even save some of them. He surely wasn’t getting his hero complex stroked when it came to his work. He had a soft spot for women, he had learned the hard way the shit deal they’d landed when they were born. He couldn’t do much...but he could try to help. So he did. Loss after loss he kept trying. This was that bit of good Esme had always believed in. He wasn’t sure how much longer he would have it so he made the best of it while he could.

The night before was nothing knew, an old habit at this point for him. He went out and got a woman, he’d pour every bit of good in him into her, convincing himself he still had it. He’d make them feel good, listen to them, things that were in short supply in their lives from men. He could be that good guy exception, if only for a short while. It felt nice to not be looked at with disgust or fear. The slivers of affection kept him going after dark. He’d leave them breathless, moans turning to laughs as they dressed, joking they might not make him pay. But they always took the money. And he offered it with no judgment, pulling his jeans on and halfway through a highball glass as his lean outstretched arm offer up their compensation for making him feel something good and push out the bad thoughts for a short while. He could be making worse decisions.

He rubs his temple, suppressing a groan as he slid his way into the uncomfortable chair at the beaten-up metal table. The chatter of his coworkers all making their way into the room was grating but nothing he couldn’t ignore. Morning debriefing, something he gave a shit about. Well, work was the one thing he gave a shit about right now, hyper-focused on the clock and trying to drown out the obsession off the clock. It was a dynamic that he was still trying to perfect. He downs the hot black coffee in his hand and nods at the secretary just outside the doorway, “Get me another, sugar. No sugar.” he winks and sends her off. She side-eyed him and went on her way, that was just Pena to her, horny but harmless. He cracks his back, a grunt before landing his elbows on the table to focus, the overblown commander coming in with a handful of photos, spreading them on the table as they talked about what they always did, the cartel.

Pena tries to approach everything individually, but there was only so much range these guys had, and not seeing them all as one giant collection of piss ants with assault rifles was something getting harder and harder to do. So as new and old names were said, he watched the board fill out, the line attaching known connections and new ones. There had been a new wave of intel, something Pena and his partner Murphy were used to being the ones doing, but he wouldn’t complain if someone else finally wanted to sack up and their fucking job like they were supposed to.

“So we have our old friends,” a slap of photos to the board. “Then there’s a new round of boys coming in.” he taps the newest addition to the board. “Seems we’re getting inbred with the other families, the jewel smugglers, the miners...seems we’re trying to venture out and expand our already impressive portfolio.” he snorts.

“They can never just be fucking satisfied with their millions.” someone groans and complains.

“It’s a good chance try to take them down too.” Murphy shrugs.

“Eyes on the prize, kiss ass,” Pena says quietly, accepting his coffee without a second glance. “Do we know these women?” he asks with a nod in the direction.

“Typical.” Murphy rolls his eyes.

“No. Our assumption is prostitutes. Nothing new there.” the commander goes on, but he quickly becomes background noise as Pena stands and moves toward the board. He stood, hips jutted forward, eyes scanning, hand over his mouth in thought. Once he saw the new pictures he hadn’t heard another word the men had said. “PENA!” barked his way grabs his attention as he casually shifts his attention.

“Mmmph. Yeah.” he mutters, eyes moving back to the board.

“I was informing you, you’d be doing street intel on these newcomers.”

“Yeah,” he says disinterested, thumbing his lip before placing his hands on his hips. “Do we have these photos in color?”

The question catches the room off guard. “Why?” he’s met with annoyed opposition.

“This woman…” he taps the photo of a woman with a sly smile on the arm of a very powerful man. Dark waves teased and a heart-shaped face buried in a fur coat collar worth more than he made in a year. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen her before…”

“They’re whores Javi, of course, you have.” Murphy leads the room in a wave of amused hums and chuckles.

“No I’m serious,” he says with no inflection, catching his partner’s attention. “Do we have a location on them if there’s no color?”

“Why’s color important?”

He’s quiet for a moment, jaw tense and eyes blinking, baffled at what he was allowing himself to think. “Her eyes… were green.” MUrphy readjusts himself in his seat, watching Pena’s eyes carefully. He could swear they looked sad.

“What information we’ve got is here.” the commander points at the table with its thick manilla envelopes.

Javier nods with no spoken response, staying in place until the room is empty except for a hesitant Murphy who approaches him. “Who is she?” he asks quietly.

He shakes his head in response. “It can’t be her,” there’s a heavy pause, “But it...fuck it looks like her…” his voice trails off and Murphy is left with more questions.

“Well, are you gonna answer me or just write poetry about her Javi?”

“She’s…” he sighs and sucks his teeth. “She’s supposed to be dead.”

“Did you-?”

“No… no… nothing like that.” his voice still quiet. “I knew her… fuck...over a decade ago now.”

“So we can add hunting ghosts to our agenda now too. Great.” Murphy takes it lightly and presses his lips together. He stares at Javi, his eyes dark and focused. He was left with more questions than answers. His money was still on it being a hooker. It’s not as if Pena had even talked about Esme since the investigation when he was young. His partner may have his back in life or death situations, and they may have been close, but no one knew about her. Pena had hoped to keep it that way. He hoped he was wrong. He hoped it wasn’t her. Because if it was… well he didn’t know what he’d do.

---------------------------------------------------

Esme didn’t know it but with every minute that passed, she was being proven right about her belief in her first love, that if he knew she was alive, that he would find her.

Esme had ran, a bug out bag down the river and no trace left behind. She made her way south over the years, learning her craft and making friends in the right places. She’d started with rich men, especially rich white men trying to make a living off exploiting her fellow man in Mexico. It had been almost too easy. They thought nothing of her and wore her as if she were a watch; on their arm and shiny and proof of their wealth. She would gain access, gather intel and then sweep in and take the goods and ghost out.

Esme had been legally declared dead and was now living as Estelle. She had so many names over the years but her current incarnation was Estelle. And she was a star. She’d become what she wanted, she was rich and self-reliant. She needed no one and had her fun as she craved it. There were men and women and drugs and jewels and for so long it had been a pleasant hazy dream. But the novelty of it wore off, she grew bored,  a witness to her hypocrisy, growing soft and lazy with her indulgence. When she emerged from her haze and saw the state of the world around her she knew things had changed. Narcos now ruled the world. The government bowed to them, the poor worshipped them. She saw they were the future, the new leaders. And for her, that meant that’s where she had to be.

She found herself once again sharp and full of adrenaline. Her new role took real savvy and cunning. Otherwise, she’d end up dead for real. She cozied up, working for Narcos to steal for them. It wasn’t hard in skill, but it was in the amount of sexist shit she had to deal with. She’d killed men for laying hands on her, and worse. She’d pulled knives and guns and made frown men piss themselves as she threatened them with words they’d never heard women utter up to that point. Most of the leaders would laugh until they cried after the fact, seeing a woman act in such away. She entertained them. They underestimated her, saw her as some novelty pet that fetched things and entertained them. She could handle that. As long as she got paid.

Following the groups, making her way around it made sense she found herself in Columbia. She knew it was dangerous, but she was addicted to it. It filled the void of sex and drugs for her for the most part, although she did partake among her peers from time to time. She thought it made her admirable, independent, and a shining example of what a woman could be if she had the nerve to do it. She was, to a degree, but she was also wrong. She lacked the softness in her life anyone, not just a woman needed. A void where no love or trust or intimacy was in her life she filled with material things and lists of her accomplishments. if she kept busy and looking ahead she wouldn’t be still king enough to face her demons.

Except she was about to come face to face with her biggest one.

—

As was his way, Javier had become a bit obsessed. He had to know if this woman was Esme. He’d been tracking her and was able to have DEA level observation to do it. It was a personal mission he’d been able to spin to look like a cartel one. There was a connection, she was seen with them, but little was known outside of that. After he’d put the word out for the beautiful woman with green eyes it hadn't taken long before someone scorned by her leaked information on her next job. The informant knew what his boss wanted to be stolen and when she’d be there. Normally no agent or cop would care to pay attention to her, or some jewels being stolen,  she was just some woman to them. But serendipitous timing made sure she became THE woman for one of them.

She practically waltzed into the store. She scaled a fence, a wall and came through a window but for her, that was practically begging her to steal from them. The rooms were dark, silent except for the sounds of her feet as she made her way into the back, unseen and unbothered. It wasn’t until she’d stopped to admire her score before snatching it they the clicking of a gun behind her caught her attention.

He’d waited in the shadows, and none too patiently. With the aim set to intimidate, not kill, he Easter no more time. “Who are you?” It came out as an order.

Her head snapped up, back still to the faceless voice she felt was all too familiar. She blinks, the former goal now removed and replaced with a flood of emotion. She remains silent, her turn to be shocked like he was when he saw her face in the photos.

“Turn around.” Another order. The voice was deeper, darker now but still made her feel the same way.

She turns, and painfully slow. She doesn’t meet his intense gaze immediately, reading his body language first and calming her racing mind. There’s no way it was him.

There’s no way it’s her, his mind reassures him. But as soon as her eyes raise to meet his his stomach drops. He was right.

“Javi?” It was almost a whisper, for the first time in she couldn’t remember when she didn’t hide her emotions in her face.

The gun falls first, his sense falling to the wayside as it slipped into its place in the back waist of his jeans. His frame was broader, still lean moves towards her with an earned confidence now. He doesn’t speak, staring at her as if she might not be real. She gives him his time. He’d earned it. “It really is you.” It was his turn to let the veil fall, dark eyes shining in the low, cool light.

She nods. “Javi I can explain.” She begins, prepared to apologize and ask forgiveness before asking him why the hell he was there at all. They were a long way from home.

“You’re alive.” A rather obvious statement that made her smile. It was all he could handle.

“I can explai-“ a quick burst of words before they’re cut off by his mouth landing against hers. She hadn’t expected this. She was prepared for many things last but not this, at least not for him to be kissing her. “Javi my-“ she tries to get out but his hands are already on her cheeks, hot and damp and certain. She lets her concern fade for a moment, it would all be fine. She gives in to it, lets him take the lead, and pull her against him roughly. The anger and hurt coming through in his grip on her back and face as they kissed breathlessly. He stole her focus without trying, there was the signature huff from his nose, the nuzzle into her between separating to catch his breath but he felt different. But so did she.

Where they once held differences in certainty they now held the opposite. He kissed her like he just found out his first love was alive after decades of vices to cover the loss. Because he had. Every woman and experience he’d had between her and now, every skill and thus gained confidence was clear and apparent. This was not a boy handling a girl. He was a man handling his woman.

And there she was, blindsided and touch starved, passion and intimacy starved being devoured by the only man she’d ever truly loved. The only man she’d ever let in and see her for what she was. The only man that knew Esmeralda. It was a raw and painful ache that emanated from her chest as she clutched her hand around his wrist and the other gripped his shirt in her hand. She gave in because she knew it wouldn’t last long, and after it was over she’d miss it.

With eyes squeezed shut, his forehead pressed to hers, his statuesque nose gently rubbing against hers he exhales hot against her face. “Esme…” he pulls back and holds her face, demanding her focus.

“It’s been so very long since someone’s called me that.” she sighs and puts her hands on his forearms.

“Since I called you that?”

She nods and smiles, face pressed into his hand.

“Maybe it’s about time people called you that again.” he pauses and looks her over with a hard brow, he couldn't hide his simmering anger underneath the confusion, relief, and affection. “Where the fuck have you been?” She sighs in response. “Why the hell are you HERE?”

“Same as you. Work.”

“Why are you with those men? Don’t you know who they are? What they do?”

“Why do you ask questions you already know the answer to?”

“Why Esme?” his eyes water and his hands squeeze her face a bit too tightly before a wave of dizziness hit him.

“Same reason now as then,” she whispers, his grip loosening and not hearing her response, she slicks his dark hair back as his eyes start to roll around in their sockets. “You're fine, Javi. Seems you fell for my defense mechanism.” she smiles and he looks at her, starting to slump. “To be fair I didn’t know to expect you. You’ll wake up soon enough. It’s only temporary.” she wipes the culprit of the sudden wave of forced unconsciousness he was going through, her lipstick off his mouth. He was out quickly, and she spent some long moments exploring the now aged face of her once wide-eyed companion. “You are even more handsome than I thought you’d be.” she coos and kisses him after dragging him into a chair and pushing it into a corner so he wouldn’t fall. “It now inevitable we’ll meet again. My old hound dog.” She chuckles, a kiss to take in the scent of his hair before she parted ways. “See you later, mi amor.”

-----------

Peña awoke to a boot knocking against his knee and an odd headache. It was pitch black outside by now, people on the streets outside none the wiser to the life-altering experience he’d just had.

“Are we blacking out in stores now?” Murphy snarks and shakes his head, leaning against a door frame.

“That’s not...I’m not…” Javier shakes his head, rubbing and tapping at the pulse in his skull.

“Then what the hell is it?” He can hear the judgment in his partner's voice.

“If I told you you would think I was crazy.” he groans and sits up with his back straight in the chair, one cocked brow looking over to the man staring him down.

“And I don’t now?”

Peña huffs out a laugh. That was a fair assessment. He’d think the same thing. He looked across the room, the glass case he’d found her standing in front of now empty. “She took the jewels.” he switches the subject, an arm raised lazily and collapsing against his lap after.

“Were they made of cocaine? Why do we give a shit?”

“It’s not the jewels that are important. It’s the woman that did it.”

“A woman? Huh. That’s something you don’t see every day. That is… a little bit crazy I guess.”

“That’s not what’s crazy.”

“Am I gonna have to fuckin’ waterboard you man, just tell me.” he groans.

“That woman I told you about... that stole those... she's been declared legally dead for almost twenty years.” he finally says with a defensive tone and a face that said don’t fucking try me to the man still assessing his sanity with no attempt at hiding his negative prognosis.

“Oh.” Murphy contemplates looking away to the empty case. “That... yeah okay that is crazy.”

@jaegeeeeer​ @likedovesinthewnd​ @inkededucatednnerdy​  @biharryjames @ladamari68​ @past-romantic​ @weliketomoveit

#javier pena #Javier Pena Fanfic #javier pena fic #javier pena fan fic #javier pena x reader

[abalonetea]

Just Keep Breathing: Chapter One

I was partnered with @the-dot for the @originalfictionbigbang! Thank you for working with me, Dot! 

Here is the first chapter! I’ve split the first 10k words between four chapters, and will be posting them all in a masterpost in just a moment!

Summary: It’s the height of storm season and everyone in Hi-Banks, Florida is getting ready for the bad weather. It should be a year like any other - but on the tails of a national pandemic, a new disaster strikes. More than one new disasters. So many disasters that Eddie Carver would like to put some of them back, thanks. He’s just a down on his luck guy living in the local trailer park with his boyfriend. He’s not interested in dealing with the revival of an old murder case - which he knows nothing about, thanks -, the storm season of the century, or…zombies?

Yeah. Absolutely not interested in the zombies.

This black-comedy follows the inner workings of a small town as they band together to survive, and the young man - reckless, mean, angry, written off b the big city folk come to look into a cold case - that might hold all of societies survival in his hands.

Forget about society. Eddie’s only interested in keeping his friends alive.

Chapter One – Hi Banks Florida

“ - increased reports of unprecedented aggression all across New York City. This is following in the wake of Mayor Alex Grand’s assault on his wife. These attacks have increased nearly ten fold in the wake of the recent vaccine’s release, prompting many to wonder if the vaccine was released too soon – should more tests have been done? Could this be a side effect of it? We have reached out to the head of the FDA, Doctor - “

The television goes to pure static, a hissing crackle of black and white fuzz. Eddie groans. “Seriously? I was watchin’ that!”

“Guess you ain’t watching it now,” says Carson, draping himself over the back of the couch. He curls an arm around Eddie’s chest, pinning him against the back of the couch. “You should be at work, anyway.”

“Penny don’t got work for me today.”

“Then you should be out working on the truck. I’m sick of walking to the docks.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. He shifts, leaning up and wrapping his own arms around Carson’s neck, tugging until his boyfriend is leaning down enough that Eddie can kiss him. “I can’t fix the truck ‘till we get a part mailed in. Penny let me use the work account.”

“Bullshit,” says Carson. “You just don’t want too.”

“It ain’t bullshit. It’s, uh, truth shit.”

“Wow.” Carson shakes off Eddie’s grip. “You worked hard on that one, huh? Whatever, don’t work on the truck. I’ve got actual work to get too.”

Eddie twists, pulling himself up so he can drape over the back of the couch. “Gonna rain today. Take an extra shirt.”

Carson says, “sure, I’ll put it in the truck so it stays dry. Oh, wait.”

And, okay, so Eddie kind of deserves that one. The truck hasn’t been running for almost a week now. This isn’t the first time that it’s stopped working. Carson bought it straight out of the local junkyard five years back, and it’s pretty much held together with duck tape – literally – and chewing gum – which might be the next step.

Eddie really is waiting on the part to come in.

The problem is that he sort of forgot to order it until yesterday.

Drooping, Eddie makes a disgruntled sound. “I’ll see if I can’t fudge it, okay? Just, I dunno, don’t get hit by lightning. The storm’s supposed to be nasty.”

“Great.” Carson shoves on one boot, then the other. “So we’re going to have no power tonight.”

“I’ll fill the tub.”

“Summer sucks ass.”

“Florida sucks ass,” corrects Eddie.

Carson thinks on it, then bobs his head in agreement. “Yeah, okay. Let’s go with that one.”

“You gonna be home for - “ The television bursts back into being with a crackle of too loud sound. Eddie swears.

The woman on TV reads off, “ - no official links between the two. Gerald Harbrinks has been arrested today for the most bizarre case of armed robbery the county has ever seen, in which he dropped his gun and instead chose to bite the cashier - “

Eddie mutes it. “Sorry. One’a these days we need to get actual cable.”

“Yeah, when toads fly,” says Carson. “You doing dinner?”

Eddie thinks about what they have in the pantry. Not much, but probably enough to throw at least half a meal together. He’s better at cooking and coming up with things than Carson is. “Yeah. You going to be back before dark?”

Carson shrugs. “How should I know? They never tell me anything. I might not even have to stay if it rains.”

“Babe, if it rains, they’re gonna make you stay out of spite, and you know it,” says Eddie, because the guy who runs the docks is kind of an ass.

Carson grunts. “Thanks for the reassurance.”

“No problem.” Eddie shuts the TV off all the way and finally pries himself up off of the couch. “So, dinner, unless we lose power. We’ll have to hit up Red’s. He’s got that grill or whatever.”

He sways his way over to his boyfriend, plasters himself against Carson’s front and schmoozes his way in for a kiss. Carson curls an arm around him for a moment, then makes a face. “Come on, man. I gotta at least get down there before the rain starts or I won’t make shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eddie. “Get outta here. Don’t get drowned or nothing.”

* * *

Hi Banks, Florida is the sort of place you’re born into, you slog through, and then you die in. And mostly, the people are okay with that. Why leave a good thing, right? Or maybe it’s more that the people born into Hi Banks just have a hard time getting together the chance to leave.

The trailer park is on the backside of town, filled up with old mobile homes and trailers parked up on cinder blocks. The paths between homes flood any time it rains and Eddie makes a point of sloshing his way through the puddles until the inside of his sneakers are soaked and his stained up jeans are covered in mud. Splash! Slosh! Splat!

The Calloway’s have added a new pick up truck to the collection of cars sitting out front. Eddie would bet it’s like the rest of their vehicles and the engine doesn’t actually roll over. Not that he can say too much on that front, considering his own truck.

If there’s any chance that he can trick the thing into running, he needs another quart of oil and – well, it is his fault that Carson’s going to have to walk home in the rain later, so Eddie figures he’ll pick up a box of swiss rolls while he’s out. Swiss rolls are Carson’s favorite.

Sweets in general are his favorite, but whatever.

So he sloshes his way through the trailer park and out onto the long, main road that cuts through the center of town. If you keep going long enough in one direction, it will take you to the highway. Keep going long enough in the other, you’ll hit the swamps.

There’s just the one commercially owned grocery store in the whole town. The parking lot is mostly empty, which isn’t a surprise considering it’s the middle of a Monday, and also about to cut loose. The wind’s started to pick up and everything, clouds dark and violent overhead. Eddie scurries into the shop, muttering a brief ‘hey’ to Annie Green when he passes her counter and heads towards the back.

Fitz is curled over the meat case muttering under his breath to himself, which is less unusual than it sounds. Eddie opts not to wave at him, and instead just goes for the cake aisle. It’s so picked over that it’s ridiculous. There aren’t any swiss rolls so he grabs the oatmeal cookies instead.

No doubt that the milk and bread aisles are already empty, to go with the alarmingly small amount of paper product. Up at the check out, he asks Anne, “you seen Roy come in yet today? He owes me ten bucks.”

“Nope.” The machine beeps when Anne scans the box of cookies. “Is Ftiz still back at the meat? I swear, he’s been in here for an hour.”

“Yeah. Maybe he’s stocking up on it.”

“Even Fitz isn’t stupid enough to stock up on meat right before we’re due for hurricane season.” Anne holds out her hand and Eddie fishes a crumpled five from his back pocket to pass over. “You talk to him?”

“Nope.”

Anne heaves out a sigh. “Great. Guess I can walk back and deal with it. If he’s drunk - “

“If he’s drunk, call his wife. She’ll have his ass for drinking that much this early in the day.”

Anne snorts. “Yeah, she will.”

Eddie shifts from one foot to the next, peering out the glass front doors. It’s still raining hard outside. “You think this is gonna light up any time soon?”

“Supposed to rain all evening. I’m surprised that they haven’t canceled work at the docks,” says Anne.

“Ugh. Great. Just, double bag them, I guess. I have to walk back in this.”

Anne doubles the bag and Eddie steps back out into the deluge. He’s soaked in a matter of minutes.

* * *

“Fucking Hell!” Eddie shakes himself off as he steps into the trailer. He fumbles around in the dark for the first few minutes, stripping out of his sodden clothes and down to his equally sodden boxers. Still swearing, he drops the bag of soaked oatmeal cookies onto the counter and flips on the light switch for the kitchen.

Nothing happens.

Eddie swears louder.

There’s the sound of something shuffling about from the bedroom. Eddie grabs the natty tea towel off the front of the stove handle and uses it to wipe off his face. “That you, babe?”

No answer. The shuffling sound gets closer. Eddie rolls his eyes and attempts to pat himself dry with the hand towel. It has a mixed amount of success in actually accomplishing anything.

“I got you cookies. They should be dry. Cause of the plastic and stuff?”

Still no answer. Eddie mutters under his breath. Fine, he’ll just have the cookies himself.

He pops open the plastic wrapper and pulls out a handful of them, carrying them over to the couch – where he finds Carson stretched out, massive headphones in, and a blanket pulled down over him.

“What the Hell, man.” Eddie kicks the couch base. “Move your legs.”

Carson grumbles and slides his headphones out. “When did you get back?”

“Like, five minutes ago. I went to get you cakes, but they didn’t have none.” He passes Carson a cookie instead. “You could’ve said something when you came out of the bedroom.”

Carson squints at him. “What are you talking about?”

Something in the bedroom is knocked over. CRASH. Eddie jerks, spinning around and squinting into the dark of the trailer. “So, uh, that’s not you.”

“Of course it ain’t me,” says Carson. He shoves the blanket onto the back of the couch, swings his legs over the cushions, and leverages himself up. There’s a bat by the front door. Eddie grabs it and passes it to Carson, because he’s tiny and Carson’s not.

“Chicken,” mutters Carson, but he doesn’t look thrilled to have to go deal with this. “We got that flashlight in the kitchen?”

“Batteries are dead,” says Eddie.

“Great. Storm season, and we’ve got bad batteries.”

“Pretty sure that’s not a hurricane breaking stuff in our bedroom, babe.”

Carson shoots Eddie an unimpressed look. “No duh.”

They make their way to the little off shooting bedroom, Eddie tucked close to Carson’s back. It’s at least still early enough in the evening that wane, yellow light creeps in through the nearby window. Carson presses a hand to the door, pulls in a deep breath, and shoves it open.

What happens next happens fast: there’s motion from the over turned bedside table. Carson swings with the bat, effectively smashing their lamp to pieces. The neighbor’s fat, orange tabby cat gives an indignant hiss and jumps onto the bed, then out through the nearby busted window. There’s glass all over everything, from the lamp and the window, and rain has blown in from the storm soaking the bed and the table in equal parts. The carpet nearby squishes loudly when Carson takes a step.

“Oh,” says Eddie. “Window’s broke.”

Carson drops the bat onto the ground. “That’s it. We’re going to Red’s.”

#wip jkb #my writing #zombies #original fiction big bang #writeblr

[xxanimecoolgirlxx]

@threateningkahootmusic Prejudice and Fame belongs to them.

Vickie sat at the bar, mindlessly looking at her drink. Another long day at work as a news reporter/ investigative journalist, this time something about a corrupt company. Now normally this wouldn’t be an issue.

Except for the fact that she wished she could legally punch in a couple of individuals teeth without immediately facing assault charges.

Among other things, the company was facing allegations of workplace harassment, discrimination, unequal pay of workers based of sex, and an hostile work environment. And from her experience for working undercover there, it was, indeed, true. In fact, she’d say that the allegations weren’t telling enough! The amount of sexist and racist remarks made at her by staff and management alike would be enough to ensure that no new hires would be daring enough to go there. Even Vickie was surprised at herself for getting this far without snapping at someone. Not that it would’ve made a difference if she did.

All of this evidence through recordings and screenshots would make this seem like an open and shut case, right? Not quite. Even with the damning audio recordings, the camera feed, the multitude of paper documents and such, she knew it wouldn’t be enough for anything to really change. She needed something bigger. She knew that as it stood right now, at the very worse the company would blame a few lowly managers as scapegoats, fire them, and then say that they will do better in the future while knowing good and well that they had no plans on doing anything. Hell, even if they did get any legal repercussions, they could just settle out of court and be done with it. No, Vickie would need something bigger.

Right now she would be doing more research into the company had her work friend not dragged her to this self proclaimed “high end club”. Apparently her friend had been assigned to do an interview to this celebrity, Fame, at least that’s what she hoped his stage name was. She didn’t see a point in drawing needless attention to herself to she opted to stay at the bar and subtly watch from afar. Not like she was dressed to be here anyways, her black knee length form fitting dress was too professional to be in a function like this, her black hair wasn’t styled up to anything fancy and her dark skin wasn’t adorned with any makeup too flashy. It looked like she was at a job interview more than a nightclub. She was more worried about her case than anything else.

“Come on now, I know your defining character quality is being a square, but lighten up a bit, let yourself have some fun.”

Vickie’s eyes wondered over to the ghost that seemingly followed her everywhere, Helena. Seeing that Helena was invincible to everyone but her most of the time, she couldn’t outright face her or talk to her in public without looking odd to say the very least. She raised an eyebrow at the ghost. Like hell she was going to let herself get sloppy drunk and make a complete fool of herself. Maybe that was some other’s tastes to get so blasted that the next morning they don’t know where they were, but it wasn’t Vickie’s taste.

Helena could see the look in Vickie’s eyes

“I know what your thinking. I’m not asking you to behave like an absolute moron. But just chill it. You’re not on the clock right now, you’ll always have time to do this tomorrow. But for the love of god stop worrying yourself.” Helena then crossed her arms

“I promise you if you burn yourself out and pass out from pulling an all nighter again, let me you tell, you will not hear the end of my lectures in the morning.”

Vickie sighed. Although she didn’t say anything, she did make it a point to relax her shoulders and let herself slightly slouch a bit. She finished her drink before ordering a new one when commotion could be heard from the other side of the club behind her. Even with the loud music, Vickie could tell something was going on. Helena looked over and moved closer to see what was going on.

“Oh goddamnit, Prejudice, this is the 5th time this month you’ve crashed the party!” Fame grumbled as Prejudice smirked, snatching a drink out of the hand of Vickie’s coworker.

“Yeah, and I’ll do it again. Besides, I like how you get all p!ssy about it.” Prejudice said as he took a drink from his stolen beverage.

Helena moved back over to Vickie

“Don’t look now, but I think that’s the CEO of that company you’re looking into.” Helena whispered despite knowing she couldn’t be heard by anyone else. Vickie stole a glance to confirm what Helena was saying before looking away just as quickly as to not accidentally get unwanted attention.

“The hell’s he doing here? Shouldn’t he be more worried about saving his company’s face by discrediting the allegations?” She muttered quietly to herself as she took a sip from her Bloody Mary. Helena glanced over

“It looks like him and that other fellow know each other.” Helena said. “I’ll keep watch.” Helena said as she floated over to the crowd. Vickie’s grip on her glass tightened. Maybe this could be the chance she’d been looking for to get solid concrete against the company. Since her coworker, besides from an obvious camera crew, had a recording pen on her, maybe the pen might catch something incriminating, maybe embezzlement, tax fraud, something that really couldn’t be ignored, something that could ruin this business and its corrupt ways.

As she took another swing of her drink, she started noticing the feeling of eyes burning into the back of her head, like someone was staring at her. At first she thought it was Helena, until the ghost floated back over and the feeling didn’t go away.

“Did you catch anything?” Vickie whispered subtly.

“No, but he’s been staring at you. I think? He may be looking at your general area but he’s definitely been looking intensely at the bar area.” Helena said.

Vickie wanted to test that theory. She got up from her chair and walked around, acting as though she was merely stretching. The feeling of being watched didn’t fade no matter where she went. Even well after she sat back down in her chair. Ok, he definitely was staring at her. Did this guy somehow know who she really was, what her goals were? She didn’t think so, she’d done a good job hiding it.

By this point, the amount of people in the club dwindled down a bit, at least in the area she was in. Fame had moved to a different spot of the club and so did a large group of the crowd there. Everyone else around her were either drunk or leaving. Vickie was mid drinking her beverage when she felt someone approaching. Great, just great. She didn’t look over as she just wanted to be left alone. But alas, her luck for the night turned to be Jack sh!t as Prejudice sat down in a chair next to hers at the bar.

Vickie didn’t look over, just remained silent and indifferent as Prejudice pretty much ordered the bartender for some hard liquor. Helena looked like she wanted to intervene but Vickie signaled her not to with some cleverly hidden hand signals the two hand memorized over the course of their friendship/ her being tethered to Vickie. It was quiet for a moment, before Prejudice slammed his shot glass. He glanced over at the bartender.

“I’d suggest you take your fat ginger freak a$$ out of here before you also get a taste of what this little dumb bimbo is going to get.” Prejudice said, in this almost joking way, though she could tell by his voice that He at the same time sounded serious. Either way, it was enough to get the bartender out of there.

Vickie didn’t even have time to get up herself when she felt a hand grab her by the hair and slam her face down onto the counter. She felt her arm being twisted behind her back, the grip getting tighter when she struggled. Helena tried to help, to pull the man off of her but she was swatted away like a fly, which set off all alarms bells in Vickie’s brain. This man clearly wasn’t human.

“Now what do we have here? You know, looking at you, I’d think you’re just another dime a dozen mortal sl/t with less brains than a mutt, it took me a bit to discover what you were actually trying to do.” Prejudice said in casual voice that somehow sounded threatening at the same time. Even then, it was how he said theses things that started grinding Vickie’s gears. He said these things like he was entitled to say them, like it was owed to him.

“You may have fooled my dipsh!t employees, you dumb b!tch, but I’m not exactly as easy to convince. I know you plan on finding whatever evidence you can to ‘ruin’ me or whatever you want to call it. What, you plan on cancelling me? You seem like the type to type essays on Twitter on inequalities or whatever nonsense about equality like anyone will give a damn. At least nobody important will care.” He grinned.

“Oh go f*ck yourself you pompous little sh!t!” Vickie growled. She let out a loud hiss of pain as he twisted her arm more as a result.

“Oh, a little feisty? Good, I’ve been wanting something more entertaining than some obedient little pets. So please, go on. I’m going to break that jaw of yours either way but still, I want to hear more.” Prejudice goated on. She felt his hand slowly leave her hair and travel down to her waist.

“You know, if you really wanted to make yourself useful, doll, than you should stop worrying about whatever job you work in and start worrying about wearing something nice. You dress like a sl/t that acts like they’re someone of any respect. Really you’re not fooling anyone ” Prejudice said, the cockiness in his voice was what sent Vickie off to a boiling peak.

Using the mobility gained by his hand not being holding her head down, she stomped on his foot with her heel, as hard as possible, the man let out a curse but before he could really do much she took a shot glass from the table, spun around and smashed it right in his eye. Sure, this did result in her held arm getting twisted even more and probably dislocated, it gave her the opportunity to get free from his grasp as he stumbled back.

She then took this opportunity to start beating him with pretty much everything and anything in sight, fists, heels, a wine bottle she smashed over his head, chairs, anything in sight. All whilst calling him every name in the book, every swear and curse she could think of, hell, she was pretty sure she set a record. But even all of that didn’t really do much, not when immediately after she was backhanded to the ground when he finally got his footing. She didn’t even have time to recover as he grabbed her by her throat and slammed up against a wall, several times. By the time he stopped her head was spinning and blood was dripping from the back of her head. He then held her up off her feet, hand still firmly on her neck and then he squeezed down, hard.

She desperately scratched at his hand, tried to take gasps of air. But his tight grasp cut off her airways, leaving her attempts useless. Even worse, there didn’t even look like she laid a scratch on him, as any and all injuries or bruises inflicted on him had somehow already healed.

Prejudice’s smirk became wider as he squeezed tighter, his free hand yanking out any remaining glass from his eye.

“God, aren’t you just a fidgety little spazz? Hmm? Did you really think you could fight off a god? Though you’ve been great entertainment so far, it’s been a while since someone’s actually tried to fight me. Good to know not every mortal nowadays are p/ssies.” He spoke.

Vickie could see her world starting to turn dark as Prejudice kept talking

“Let’s just get this part over with. You WILL delete whatever ‘evidence’ you have against my company, and you’ll drop this case. If you don’t, we’ll, I’m sure you don’t have many options here, unless you wanna have a meeting with Death.” He said.

“Then, I want you to meet me in my office as soon as you enter the building. Don’t try quitting now that you won’t be able to do that little expose thing. I can ruin you in so many ways I’m sure your pretty little brain won’t comprehend. It’s alright. You don’t have to think, just do as I say and I won’t have to hurt you.. too much, sweetheart.” That ‘sweetheart’ was said in the most patronizing tone that it would’ve made Vickie said had she not been on the brink of passing out from lack of oxygen.

That was when Prejudice finally dropped Vickie, leaving her on the floor taking greedy gasps for air, her lungs burning from the lack of it. Prejudice just smirked at her once more before checking his watch. He took him longer than he thought. No worries, he didn’t have too much planned for today’s anyways.

Vickie laid there weakly on the floor as Prejudice just walked away, as if he didn’t just do what he just did. Helena by this point finally came too and quickly picked up Vickie, getting her out of the club and into her car.

“Vickie, Vickie. Don’t pass out on me, Vickie just try and stay awake! I’ll get help!” Helena said as she dashed over somewhere as Vickie fought to keep her eyes open before exhaustion finally hit and she felt her eyes close, her body forcing her to rest for the sake of recovery.

#original character #creative writing #tw violence

[roughandtumble-r]

Issue 30 came out today, so I'll be talking about it (minimally) and also about solicits for upcoming Issues. Also, I've decided to try out uploading images on mobile, so this post is also kind of a test for that (for that reason, I'll also be keeping images to a minimum).

Like I said, I'm not going to be talking about Issue 30 too much since not a lot actually happened, but there are some key points I'd like to mention, including Gemerl and Omega (or what's left of him) getting kidnapped by Metal Sonic and Eggman, most of the Deadly Six going missing, and us also learning where Sonic went...

Hey, we were right! He did get sent to Blaze's dimension! They also brought in the Koala dudes from Rush Adventure, so I wonder if that means Marine will show up next Issue or soon.

That's pretty much it for what I wanted to bring up regarding Issue 30's contents, but there is one interesting piece of trivia I'd like to say about one of it's covers. As it turns out, in the A Cover for this Issue, that reoccurring side character Lanolin the Sheep was actually originally going to be on the cover, but was later edited out. The version with her lineart in it was released online though, so here's a comparison of the two versions. The one with just lineart has Lanolin hanging out at the bottom, but the final has her completely cut out.

I'm not completely sure why they decided to cut her out, but maybe it was to maintain her status as a background character (you know, despite her already being on one of the covers for Issue 2 and actually showing up quite a bit).

On the topic of covers, we also have this finished (I think?) panoramic cover for the Issue 29 and 30 Retail Incentive covers...

We also have a few covers already for upcoming Issues, but some of them I might have covered already (although I can't actually remember because of how long we've had the Issue 30-33 solicits), so I'll just be showing two that I find noteworthy. First up, we have this really nice Jon Gray cover for Issue 31...

"MISSING! Please don't find them. Seriously, they're awful and they smell."

Never change Jon Gray and Reggie Graham, never change :3

We also have this really cool Diana Skelly cover for Issue 2 of Bad Guys, and I really like this one because it looks like it's going to be part of a panoramic cover (which I hope it is because I wanna see Rough and Tumble hanging out at this bar :3)...

That'll be it for covers for now, but it's time to look at release dates and solicits! Some of these I might have already put on here months ago, but some of them are completely new.

Issue 31 (September 2nd) - It's all led to this... the thrilling two-part epilogue to the Metal Virus Saga. The world has changed. Heroes and villains plan for the future as reconstruction begins. But one hero remains missing...

Issue 32 (September 30th) - The second half of the Metal Virus Saga epilogue. With all the chaos of the recent past still fresh in everyone's minds, Dr. Eggman launches a new assault-determined to take down his enemies once and for all.

Issue 33 (also September 30th? That may be wrong) - Hold onto your chili dogs, Sonic fans! Long-time artist Evan Stanley takes over as writer with an action-packed, friendship-fueled new arc: "Chao Races and Badnik Bases!" The perfect jumping-on point for new readers! The Metal Virus is gone, but things aren't quite back to normal. Omega is damaged and his allies turn to Tails and Sonic for help. The only way to rebuild him is to trade parts with a mysterious champion Chao racer... but things aren't what they seem.

Issue 34 (October 14th) - It's off to the races with Cream, Cheese, Amy, and Rouge! They have to keep up their winning streak or surrender Cheese to Clutch's evil...clutches! Meanwhile, Sonic and Tails are being watched by a mysterious figure in Eggman's seemingly abandoned base and Shadow investigates a mystery!

Bad Guys Issue 1 (September 16th) - The mastermind behind the Metal Virus isn't done yet. Ian Flynn returns to answer: What happened to Dr. Starline? The Shadowy Scientist is back to his evil antics in Bad Guys! And what better place to concoct nefarious plans than one of Dr. Eggman's abandoned bases? But that is easier said than done when badniks are guarding the entrance! Dr. Starline knows he can't do it alone, so he decides to recruit some familiar and not so friendly faces.

Bad Guys Issue 2 (October 28th) - From Sonic veterans Ian Flynn and Jack Lawrence comes "Smash & Grab," an exciting story jam-packed with bad guys and badniks! Some of Sonic's worst enemies are back and badder than ever! Dr. Starline, Dr. Eggman's former-right hand, has brought together Mimic, Rough, Tumble, and Zavok and promised them even more incredible power... if they can stop fighting each other and start fighting badniks to get to it!

The only really noteworthy stuff I want to bring up about these solicitations is the stuff in Issue 33 and 34 regarding a new character, presumably a Chao racer named Clutch. Nothing is known about this character other than his (I'm just kinda he's a dude, but he might not be) name and what he does for a living, so stuff like his species and whether or not he's like a hero or a villain or whatever is kind-of unknown. The Issue 34 solicit also mentions that Shadow leaves to investigate something, and at the end of Issue 30 he actually does leave to follow Eggman, so him leaving then could be what leads up to whatever happens in Issue 34.

Anyway, that's all I have to say for now. The next date we have set for a release is September 2nd, so I guess I'll see you all then!

#RoughandTumble-r #Sonic #Idw #SonicIdw #Sonic idw #Idwsonic #Idw sonic #Issue30 #Issue 30 #Idwissue30

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 20

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19

Happy New Year!!!!!! Here’s a party and a hot guy loving on you - and you don’t even have to leave your home ;)

I haven’t been to many therapist offices after I started high school. This one was free, on student-life. Reproduced images of the sea were comforting enough, but it was the dreary stained carpet that reminded me where I was. 

“Do you think they’re related to the night you were assaulted?” 

“Yes. But I don’t know how to get rid of them. I lose sleep and then when I do sleep, I have these nightmares and I wake up more restless than if I’d just stayed up all night.” 

 “Hm. And how do you feel about Harry?” 

 “Harry?” 

 She nodded. “Yes, the boy in your dreams.” Her French manicured nails squeezed the top of her clipboard.

 “That’s not an easy question.” 

 “Try.” 

 I sighed. “Okay…” The painted seagull in her office looked like an on-clearance print at TJ Maxx, and suddenly I wished I’d called my mother for her own version of therapy instead. Bargain shopping. “I think I hate him. But then I know I don’t. But then… I don’t necessarily like him either.” 

 “Do you love him?” 

I laughed. “No, I don’t love him.”

 “Why do you laugh?”

 “I said I almost hated him and you ask me if I love him!” But my voice was a little too loud. The question stayed with me, stirring in my mind. “I think I’d know if I loved him.” 

 “Love looks different to different people. Finding a healthy version of love for yourself and your partner is where things can go awry. Or right.” 

 I remembered Harry and I talking at Alta about Madame Bovary, and how I’d told him that people love to the best of their abilities, from what they’ve learnt by their circumstances. Silence weighed in the room, and I knew she was waiting for me to elaborate on my feelings. Bleh.

 “I don’t know,” I finally said. “But if this is what love looks like to him… We’re not even technically dating so this question doesn’t even apply!” I laughed again. “But then… even if we were, then...  it’s not enough.” 

 “And what would be enough for you?”

 “Stability.” 

 “And do you think this is possible with him?” 

 “Umm…” Zayn’s voice popped in my head - Harry was a magnet for infamy - and I laughed. I laughed, and I laughed...“No.”

 “And why is that?” 

 “Because he self-sabotages. And he says things he doesn’t mean.” 

 “Such as...?”

 A puff of breath left my lips. “Like last night, he said I didn’t have a life. And then he was comparing me to another girl. Viv. She’s like his… sister, basically. She grew up with him. But… he got really defensive and said at least she fucks me. But the fact that he said I don’t have a life?? A LIFE?? I mean shit, it’s not my fault he’s infiltrated my dreams is it?” 

 She shook her head. “It’s very important for you not to blame yourself. Show yourself the same kindness you’d show your friends. Renny, for example.” 

 Be kind to yourself. 

 I nodded. Those were the words my mother would say whenever I’d critique myself. Just like all those times before, the words registered, but it didn’t change anything about the frustration I felt. I was the one dumb enough to let him in. I’d let myself be dragged into him, even with every red flag hitting me in the face. I was collecting them for a meme bouquet at this point!

 “Do you believe him?” she asked. 

 It took me a minute to hear her. 

 “The words he said to you,” she said. “That you don’t have a life.” 

 A timer beeped on her phone. She muted it. “I’d like you to write out what you want in your life for next time. Not what anybody else wants. But what Y/N wants. When you see it written out, no matter how silly it seems, having concrete answers might help.”

 --------------

 I was staring at my notes page, trying to think of what I wanted. I didn’t exactly have the chance to ask her what she meant by that. Did she mean career goals? Education goals? Relationship goals? What did this have to do with ending my nightmares? 

 A text at the top of my phone distracted me from the blank page. 

 Kiki: “Don’t worry, we didn’t forget about you. Get your hands on the special airhead pills from Harry’s and bring them to the DG Pretty Please Party next week. On the DL obvi.”  

Viv chimed in on the group chat. “Congrats bitch! It’ll be fun for all of us.” She included the devil emoji. 

 This is what I got for stalling up until the last minute to walk into work. The practice was now a blatant reminder that Harry was out of my life and it didn’t help whenever I saw Lionel. It felt weird that I was seeing his dad more than him. Wrong, even. 

 Voices carried through the lot along with the clicking of heels. I turned my head. 

 Boss Lady Samantha was headed towards the elevator. 

 Shit, Y/N. Shit shit shit.

 I got out, quietly closing the door. Better to walk with my boss than walk in late after her, right? Her red hair was let down today, ringlet curls in full effect. I could meet her at the elevator before it arrived.

 But right when I was about to shout out hold the elevator Lionel walked right behind her. And I mean RIGHT behind her - there was hardly room for a Bible between them. 

 I hid behind my car, unsure if I was supposed to be seeing this. 

 Their voices were too low to hear, but his arm lingered at her lower back before the elevator opened. She got in. Alone. Lionel looked over his shoulder and I ducked further. 

 Through Grandpa’s windows, I saw the elevator door close. Lionel waved goodbye to Samantha and he pressed the button again. 

 Before chickening out, my shoulders straightened. I shouldn’t have to be the one hiding. I jogged to make it. His brows shot up in surprise as he held the elevator for me. The kindness I’d gotten used to seeing in his eyes looked hesitant this time. 

 “A little late today?” he asked, as soon as I’d made it in. 

 I avoided his eyes, nodded.  It was a quiet elevator ride. 

 ------------

 My family’s house was a ten minute drive from the practice. Enough drive time to sit on what I’d seen outside Coast Shores Medicine. It could’ve been friendly. I didn’t have to do anything about this. But in my bones, I knew that friendly isn’t what I’d seen. Lionel avoided me the rest of the day, assigning me to print out billing statements. I hadn’t seen them make out or anything, but there was a certain intimacy I couldn’t write off right away. Did Mrs. de Saude know about his close work relationships? Did Harry? 

 The sickening uneasiness dissipated when I heard my parent’s Home Improvement HGTV hour. Dad was already passed out on the couch, snoring at a whopping 8 PM when I walked through the door. Ignoring Mom’s tutting of “they keep you too late,” we went to my bedroom. 

 “Pick the nude ones,” Mom said, adjusting the spectacles she only pulled out on rare occasions (magazine reading and shoe selections). “It makes your legs look longer.” It looked like there was something more she wanted to say. 

 I adjusted them in the mirror, wearing the blush dress I’d bought for my aunt’s beach wedding almost a year prior. It’d never been worn. Her Spanish fiancé she’d met three months prior stole her TV set and ran off with his gay lover a week before. As I stood, the dress just barely touched the floor. Simple, really, but the way the thin straps exposed my chest rendered it elegant. I felt like I needed a long cigarette and fur coat to make it complete.  

 Without context, Mother suddenly burst into an annoyed huff. 

 “You okay?” I asked.

 “Hm?” Her lashes fluttered as if she hadn’t realized she’d made a noise. “Oh, yes. I’m fine. Your father just took another one of those sleeping pills. You should never get too dependent on medication, Y/N. Drink warm milk or something.”

 “Mom.”

 “I’m serious!” Her stony face certainly wasn’t comical. 

 “I know.”

 She looked me over in the dress again and caught herself, pulling me in for a rushed hug. “I’m sorry,” she breathed. She rocked me a little. “It’s just been a little rough this week.” She squeezed me tighter, then let me go. All negative energy shoved into a box that’d spring open when we all least expected it. “Have a good night tonight. Say hello to Harry for me!”

 When I walked to the car she threw out, “And tell him next time he can ask you with a Cartier ring! HA! I’m joking!! ... Kind of!!!” 

 I smiled, waving to her at the gate as I got into my Grandpa mobile. I didn’t have the heart to tell her Golden Boy wasn’t my date.  

 ---------

There were two cops for every solo cup I could see littered on the ground. They patrolled the streets, but the frat house seemed unphased and restored to its former glory as I walked with Andre. Club music pounded beyond the doors, practically shaking the windows. Girls huddled up outside, holding each other’s hair back and trying to block anyone’s view from the bile, as the guys snickered over their shoulders and some pretended not to see. But the cops weren’t here to reprimand for underage drinking and public intoxication tonight. They were on watch. Stationed around the perimeter of the house and on either end of the street. 

 They were waiting for something else. For somebody else. 

 Andre seemed oblivious, practically skipping past them he was so excited. I, on the other hand, was already limping from the nude pumps. 

 “Wanna switch shoes?” he called back. 

 “Don’t make a deal you aren’t willing to keep,” I smiled, quirking a brow. “The nude would actually match your navy suit…”

 He’d already walked on, fist bumping the bouncer who raised up a professional-grade camera and snapped a photo of us. When my eyes recovered from the flash, I spotted Officer Ramirez from the uniforms just beyond the frat’s ramshackle fence. He was already watching me. He raised two fingers above his brow and I nodded, curtly, even though I wanted to shrink inside myself. I hadn’t had the time to think about what I would say if he contacted me again, or if I should be the one to reach out to him.

 Andre led me inside, and for once, I was glad I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. It raised ten degrees just from stepping inside. The boys were in Bond suits, but most had abandoned their jackets wherever they could - on the banister, the couch beneath the staircase, or the entrance hall. The girls had dressed up, too. This was the most covered up I think I’d seen some of them, though others still opted for above-the-knee slips.

 “Oi, where’s your drink?!” Niall’s familiar voice shouted above the bass.

 He pulled Andre into a side hug before we reached the dancefloor. When he saw me, Niall practically fell over. 

 “Y/N! What’re you doing here?” He spluttered, whiskey in his breath. The knot of his tie was already to his chest, but he loosened it even more. He looked over his shoulder, then back to me. “Renny’s just gone to the bathroom.” 

 “She’s my date,” Andre stepped in, placing an arm around my shoulder. It was completely platonic but Niall’s face went to stone. 

 Suddenly it cracked, and he laughed, running a hand over his stubbly chin. “Oh, shit.” He laughed again. “Shit!” 

 Andre smiled, unaware of anything else besides the fact that Niall must be proud he showed up with a date. He patted Niall’s shoulder. “We’re going to see the big bro, I’ll find you later.” Andre nodded his head for me to follow, leaving Niall cackling to himself in the entranceway.

 “Niall’s THE. MAN,” he put his hands up for emphasis. “He’s my favorite in the house besides my big. We gotta say hi, then you can run off. Oh, Renny’s here too!” He squeezed my shoulders as if to excite me, as if she’d be the reason I’d stay. Loved the girl, but I knew she’d be back on top of Niall five minutes after she was out. I just didn’t want to have to watch. 

 I wrung my hands together, growing nervous. I knew the reason Niall had reacted that way was because Harry was going to be here. I knew this coming into it. But I’d been expecting him to ignore me the entire night. With Niall’s reaction, I wasn’t so sure anymore. What had Harry told Niall?

 Someone sloshed their beer on me as I passed, and I turned sour, rolling my eyes as Andre pushed us forward. I picked up the pace before he could notice I’d stopped and wiped the glare off my face. Or, tried. I probably just looked constipated now. 

 WHY WAS HIDING EMOTION SO HARD?? 

 I felt bad feeling so annoyed. Andre was excited. I should be excited, right? Sloshed beer and sweaty bodies came with the territory. Though I’d forgotten how humid it got in here. Hell and Florida were probably cooler. I picked up the ends of my dress, hoping for some sort of ventilation to reach parts of me that were on the verge of overheating. 

 The coffee tables and couches had been moved from the center of the living room to the fringes beneath the stairwell to make designated smoking and dancing sections. I could’ve stayed on the outside of the dance crowd. Hell, I could’ve joined the spaced-out smokers on the couch. But I didn’t. I followed Andre to the middle of the dance floor. I could barely see above the tops of people’s heads until we reached a bit of a clearing. And by clearing, I meant the sweaty dancers in front of us who made a break for freedom and gave us about ten seconds of space before other bodies rushed to fill it. 

 I felt him before I saw him. A tiny prick of consciousness that directed my gaze. And Andre’s finger.

 “AYYYY!!!!!” Andre pointed to the DJ booth, waving his hands as he hollered.

 Even with the rocking vibration of the bass that chattered my teeth, each nerve in my body went alert. Harry stood, flashing a white smile to the crowd before downing the rest of whatever potion was in his cup. I hated how my stomach clenched just by seeing him. He saw Andre and his smile grew, grabbing the mic. I was still unnoticed, hidden by dim lighting and nameless peers.

 “Who’s ready for us to win tomorrow!?” His voice was low, demanding. It was a question for the crowd, but he was looking at Andre. I could sense the intensity even there, and it was then I realized it couldn’t be just me who feels so vulnerable around Harry. Each person he traps in his gaze stays there, until he lets them go. 

 The house erupted in cheers, but I was locked in place. The suit he was wearing looked similar to the one from the Halloween gala, and every bit of him looked just as stunning. His beautiful body swayed on the makeshift stage. 

 “Then let’s see you jump in-” His hand held up 5, 4, 3, 2… He spun another song and the crowd sprung from the floor before crashing back down. They jumped to the beat he made. A modern-day puppet master. 

 Andre wrapped an arm around me as he jumped. So I did, too. 

 “That’s my big!!” he yelled, mid-air.

 “WHAT??”

 He pointed to the DJ booth, but there was no one there besides Harry. 

 “.... HARRY??! HARRY’S YOUR- your…” I stopped jumping the same second Harry saw us together. It’s funny. It takes only a second to flip a dime on its head. His party boy mask dropped in an instant. The low lighting turned his eyes black, but they couldn’t conceal the daggers he shot straight at me.

 “I have to use the bathroom,” I muttered. 

 Andre nodded. “S’UP THE STAIRS!” He found a friend nearby and latched on to him instead. 

 The small (okay, medium) part of me filled with nothing but Petty™ wanted Harry to see me with his little. But another part of me couldn’t handle his judgmental glare. Somehow, I was embarrassed. I didn’t want him to think I’d come here tonight to make him jealous. That I was so obsessed with him I’d found another in to the frat. I didn’t want him to think he controlled any part of my heart. What did it say that I ran away at first sight, though?

 I’d already done it. It didn’t matter. Either way, I didn’t win.

 I raced upstairs, weaving my way between couples sitting on the stairs, hoping that the line for the restroom was really long and Renny hadn’t already left. It was, and she was next in line. 

 “Oh my God, what are you doing here?!” she screeched, arms out and eyes squinted until I could no longer see her pupil. 

 “Why do people keep asking me that.” 

 She pulled me into an extra-long, extra-tight Renny hug. “Love yousoooomuch,” she rushed. Her breath smelled like Niall as she pulled away. She lifted the cup to my lips and I shook my head. She frowned. 

 “I talked with Niall,” she said. “He says Harry’s just going” - she hiccupped - “through a lot right now. S’best to leave him alone.” 

 The other girls in line perked up at the mention of his name, subconsciously leaning closer. I huffed. “Trust me. I am.” 

 When three girls stumbled out of the only bathroom stall, Renny rushed in. “Thank God I was about to pee on the carpet.” She tried tugging me in with her, but my eye was on the end of the hall. And the stupid DG pretty please.

 “I’ll be back,” I muttered, squeezing her hand. 

 “Nooooo,” she drawled. 

 I squished her cheeks, checked her pupils. She didn’t need me to hold her hair back this time. I gave her cheek a lil slap.

 “I’ll go with you next time you have to go. Which will be in like... twenty minutes. You broke the seal rookie!” I teased. 

 I didn’t even bother looking over the railing at the party below to see if he was watching me. I still had my DG task and a nonrefundable deposit to think about. I didn’t think I’d get many chances to be in this house again unless I swindled Andre or Niall into letting me in. But that would require an explanation, and I wasn’t sure I could tell them that. 

 Forget explanations. I needed to do it now. Lots of noise. Tons of distractions. I’d just think of it as… borrowing?

 His door was locked and I groaned, kicking it and leaving a smudge beside all the others. I reached for a bobby pin in my purse and put it to work. I’d done it before in his bedroom, I could do it again here. The curve of the hallway protected me from onlookers waiting in line in the bathroom. Downstairs was a mixed bag. People could probably see through the railings running along the top floor. 

 Not that they’d think to look. 

 My knees were starting to hurt by the time I heard it click. I crept in, and for some reason, I expected his room to look different. But it was still the same. Dusty desk across from a queen-sized bed. Only one photograph atop his bedside mantle. And it didn’t smell like sweaty soccer clothes, but clean. With hints of a woodland spice and books. It felt like eons had passed since I was first here, undressing him like the drunken baby he’d been. As an act of betrayal, my body rushed at the thought of how his fingers had looped around my belt loops, tugging me closer. I swallowed, the image of his tightened pants expanding in my head. He’d almost been hard, then. 

 It was then, at that moment, that I decided that the one sip of alcohol I’d had must have been spiked with SOMETHING because I would NOT be that girl. I would NOT. I reFUSED TO LET MYSELF-

 Seconds later, my fingertips grazed his soft gray sheets. He’d been sprawled out right about here, and the rush of seeing unseen skin on Harry had been too intoxicating an offer to refuse. The ghost of that rush flowed through me again as my memory played it over like a movie. Close-ups and panning shots - Down his toned chest to tattoos speckled along tan skin, tattoos that had been seemingly doodles, but now held much more meaning now that I knew of his history with the ocean. For his sister. My body leant down before I knew what I was doing, and I inhaled. The lingering aroma of his body chemistry altering his cologne: musky, a little spice, and warmth.

 Even if every ounce of me wanted to dislike him, the legitimate biology behind my body responded to a chemistry I couldn’t control. 

 “What are you doing?”

 He caught me on my knees, with one hand clutched in the sheets.

 Fuckity FUCK-

 He could whip out PSYCHO magazine informing people of highly-dangerous murderers with my mugshot plastered across the cover - and I’d believe him in that moment. Oh my gosh. Omgomgomg. He didn’t say what I expected him to say when he swayed in, though. 

 “Andre. Really?” He laughed to himself, but it was cold. “Fucking” - he stumbled, leaning on the desk chair to catch himself- “really?” 

 It wasn’t the alcohol that’d put him on edge. I’d seen him handle liquor before, but this time he looked… different. I stood up, realizing his eyes were racking down my dress. I crept towards him, hoping to make it past the door. Not because I was scared of him. But because I was mortified. I’d just looked like an absolute fucking psychopath AND I’d snuck into his bedroom. Maybe I could distract him. Maybe he was too drunk to ask me-

 “What’re you doing here?”

 “What are we… all doing here? At parties?”

 “…in my room,” he clarified.

 Welp. My philosophical question fell flat. Wouldn’t be the first time.

 I waltzed past him, tight-lipped. In defense of my dignity, I still didn’t owe him anything. Not after how he’d treated me. 

 “Hey,” his arm jutted out, blocking my way. His brows crossed as he turned to a petulant boy. “S’rude to not answer.” 

 My blood boiled. “You are not about to give me a lesson on how bad it is to ignore people right now. Nor on being rude.” 

 “Can give you another one.” 

 He reached for me, but I stepped back, somewhat living in the hurt that flashed in his eyes at my rejection. 

 “You’re not leaving.” But his demand sounded like a plead. 

 “Thought you didn’t want me around you,” I scoffed, tearing past him. “Just because you’re drunk or high or whatever the fuck it is you are right now, doesn’t mean you can just… get a free pass! For a week! A whole week of awful-” I turned quickly, too frustrated to find the words. I took a step towards the door but- 

 “Y/N.” He was right behind me. His breath warmed the nape of my neck, the delicate hairs standing on end. No matter how much of an absolute mess he was, my body didn’t know better. I could practically feel him behind me, his presence radiating an alarm that blared through my veins. I wanted him. Badly. He trailed a finger down my arm, and his hand brushed against my own against my side. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 His fingers gingerly interlaced with mine, turning me around. 

 Something wet was on my cheek. I touched it, quickly rubbing it away in horror. Why were tears running down my face?! What unfair cruelty was this!? He saw my tears and leant down, suddenly defeated, pulling my body with him.

 “Why did’ya ever want me hm?” His nose went along my jaw. Full lips pressed against the base turned my legs weak. There was an underlying desperation to his words though, a prayer in his kiss. But my thoughts were turning anything but holy. 

 “Who says I did…” I wanted to pull away, ask him why he’d used past tense or why he’d completely ignored me this past week, but I was frozen by the softness of his hands. Self-respect was surely slipping away each moment I lingered. I could literally see Jane Austen parting the heavens and sticking her angelic head through Harry’s room to shame me with a glare. I do all this mental work to try and figure this guy out and… for what? I should be waltzing out that door, declaring I’d never talk to him again. I should give up messy and confused and pursue my own sanity. But the air only ever turned electric with him, in all his messiness, in all this confusion… and each time the spark appeared, it pushed us closer together until he was here, like this, soft hands gently running along my lower back, skilled fingertips feeling the dress fall slightly inwards at my waist, tracing a map of uncharted waters… 

 “You’re not thinking straight,” I breathed. And that went for both of us. 

 “Au contraire, I’m thinking clearer than I ever ‘ave.” There was a swirling madness shining through, but he bat his eyes and it was veiled again, vanished beneath the dark surface. He tilted his head, appraising my body, noticing my legs were no longer tensed to run, but in apprehension for another reason completely. A smirk settled in. “Why do you still want me?” he demanded, pulling me against him towards the bed.

 “Arrogant ass,” I sniped, but I landed on him anyway. His fingers tightened around my waist, a hand snaking up behind to entwine with my hair. I felt him harden beneath me as he pulled my head to the side, just the right amount of rough. But he stalled over vulnerable skin, lips ghosting featherlight up to my ear. He let out a soft breath and I clenched in anticipation. For once, I had no thoughts. “You should be with me,” he breathed. “Should be mine.” His voice grew frustrated and he practically growled, lips kissing my neck, steady, before they started to suck in a rhythm. The shock of the sensation masked the shock from his words and my back arched, a spider’s shiver crawling down my spine. He stopped suddenly, shooting back like he’d been shocked. His grip softened ‘round the nape of my neck, and he looked so… confused. “Can’t mark you again,” he noted, despondent. But then the corners of his lips twitched up in a smirk. “Least where it’s visible.” My breath caught. His black ink eyes showed the slightest ring of green. I don’t remember lifting my hand, but fingers trailed along dark circles. These were a new development. I shook my head lightly. Something was wrong. This was wrong. I leant in, resting my head against his. “Harry-” but his lips cut me off before I could mention it. 

 I felt like I’d been feeling his lips everywhere but my own. They were eager, but kept pace, switching it up just when I was getting comfortable, slowing to make me feel the soft fullness of raspberry-pink lips. They were pillows, and clouds, and everything else soft and wonderful that I’d want to feel forever. He slipped in his tongue, deepening the kiss, and I ground my body against him, using his shoulders as leverage. 

 This wasn’t me. But I didn’t care enough to think about ‘who I was’ anymore. What did I want? 

 I felt him pulse between my legs. 

 “Harry,” I bit my lip, and I knew then. I’ve been wanting more, I’ll always want more. I was more aware than ever of an emptiness he could fill. 

 “Been hard ever since I saw you bouncing in that dress,” he said gruffly. “With fucking Andr- ahh...fuck.” I rocked my hips against him in spite, putting a hand over his mouth to shut him up. 

 But his head jutted back and came forward again. He looked at me through hooded eyes, and just like that I was sedated by his gaze, my body pausing. He looked like he was about to scold me. “Do it again.” His voice was low. I stalled, looking at the way his lips barely parted. “Don’t be shy now, Y/N.” My hips replied on command, but rebelliously, slowly, feeling the length of him run between the thin underwear that’d cocooned itself against my ridges and folds. I ran my hips back down against his thigh. “Fu-uhck-” He jutted his hips up, turning something wicked when I moaned. The friction from the dress and pressure from my own body rocking against Harry built a tightly coiled knot I wanted desperately to release. And then we were kissing again. Fervent. Eager. A skilled tongue slipping in to dance with my own. He was rock hard against me. I could feel the full outline pressed tight against his slacks now, creating my own mental map. My hands wrapped in his hair, and I pulled, relaxing our pace, rutting myself up with purpose to rotate in a circle at his clothed tip. The noise from his throat wasn’t human, and I felt heavy and light all at the same time when his thumb dug into my chin just under my lower lip. 

 “Wanna help you,” he rumbled. “Will you let me? Won’t you do that for me?” 

 I nodded, wordlessly, and with both hands tight on my hips, he tugged us further back until he was against the pillows, and me, repositioned above him. He pulled us down and we built a rhythm against his thigh, the determination in his stitched brow as he did half the work making it even sexier. He was almost needier than me. There was an urgency to his strong hands as they hiked up my dress, fingertips dancing around and just beneath the band of my underwear. He didn’t pull it off, just gently pushed my hips up and down, then harder, faster, to the damp patch already on his slacks. I was buzzing, every inch of me, the wound coil growing bigger, tighter, the build of release making my heart race. He stared at me as we moved together.

 “Tha’s it. So good at this,” he mumbled. “So beautiful.” 

 My breath caught, and his wide eyes watched wondrously as I moved frenzied above him. His chest rose, bits of tattoo spilling past the white button-down collar. My hand clutched his shirt as I felt myself begin to peak. This was as intimate as I’ve been with someone, and the pressure of being seen through his eyes like this was a lot of pressure. I didn’t want to think about how many other girls had been in this position before. What he spoke to them, how they looked, what they’ve done, or how recently they’d done it. His hand cupped my face and brought me down, lips claiming me to the point of bruising and silencing voiceless thoughts. The pull of his lips, and the sturdiness of his thigh made me whimper. My swollen bud hit his clothed cock with each surge upwards, his hands guiding me, making sure my breath hitched each time. And each time, I’d feel him tense. Again, and again, just knowing his thick hard cock was against me, right against me, almost…

 “Almost… Harry…” 

 “Y/N,” he rasped. I felt his hot gaze as I shuddered above him. He kissed me, slow, swallowing another whimper as a current of electricity ran from the crown of my head to my toes. His hands helped me ride out my high, slowly coming to a halt. 

 He opened his arms, letting me cuddle up against his chest. Silence stretched on over quiet breathing. “Been waiting a long time for that,” he finally mumbled. I quirked an eye open, realizing he’d been watching me. I almost didn’t recognize his eyes. For once, they seemed sated. Unhaunted. The clouds had seemed, for a moment, to have parted. “To see you cummm.” He hummed the last word, leaning down and nuzzling the nook of my neck. Still nuzzling, he quirked half his face to look at me. We shared a long kiss, then a shorter one to my forehead. “You’re magnificent.” 

 Though I hadn’t removed a stitch of clothing, I hadn’t felt more naked. And for all the times I’d felt embarrassed around Harry, at least in this moment, he made me feel comfortable about what we’d just done. We lay there, my scent now mingling with the rest of his in the room. I still felt him hard beneath my legs that were strewn across his lap, and I wondered if it was … painful. He stirred, placing one hand behind his head, the other wrapped around me. 

 I traced shapes into his chest. He hummed, smiling softly. It was his boyish smile. The one I’d hardly seen, the one that you want to wrap up and cuddle and protect from the world to keep this one second of pure happiness intact. I pecked the corner of his mouth and his smile broke, squeezing my side. “Thank you,” he mumbled. I checked to make sure his eyes were still closed when I looked down at the black slacks. Since I finished, he should, too. I swallowed nervously as my fingers traced lower, down the button down as I tried to remember the porn Renny and I had watched together one late summer night. His eyelashes fluttered open, and he watched me, curiously, darkly, until I stopped at the tip of his pants. I slipped my fingers beneath the belt, just barely feeling the coarseness of hair before he took my wrist in his hand. He practically hissed and I stilled, not noticing I was holding my breath. I couldn’t possibly be doing this wrong…

 His index finger stroked the top of my hand, and I relaxed. 

 He looked at me gently. “Tonight was for you. S’all I wanted.” His touch was just as gentle, and he placed his thumb between my lips, running over them gently. I didn’t want him to see me as some pure untouched thing he should be scared to do anything with. My lips parted as seductively as I could make them appear, and I moved to let his finger in my mouth, but he cheekily closed my lips instead. 

 He stroked my cheek, almost giggling at my attempt. “This just isn’t how I picture it happening.” 

 The way his eyes were memorizing my lips told me he’d thought about this before, but I didn’t miss that he said how, and not where. Muffled EDC music vibrated his door, and faraway voices travelled through his open window from the yard below. The cops were waiting there, too. Was that the situation he was referring to? 

 “You deserve a lot, Y/N.” 

 I heard the hesitancy in his voice, some unforeseen disappointment he wouldn’t just spell out for me. “What’re you saying.” 

 “Just that there’s few things I want t’be sober for these days.”

 The thought hit my stomach like the sharpened blade of a knife, and it hurt worse than any wound from my nightmares. “Why would you say something like that?” I demanded.

 “Because it’s true.” His eyes searched mine, and I saw the sadness pulling him in. Like the tumultuous water of the middle of the ocean spirally inwards into itself. A treacherous water hole that’d carry you into its deepest abyss.

 I shook my head as if to find a way out, as if that would clear away what I was seeing. “I never… know what’s going on with you,” I admitted. I thought to the interaction with Lionel and Samantha. “Is home life really that bad?” 

 “What home?” He huffed when I looked at him. “M’serious. I feel more alone when I walk in there than I do when I’m here. And nobody even fucking knows me here.” 

 “Everyone knows you.” 

 “You’re smarter than that, Y/N.” 

 “What’d you take tonight, hm?” I cooed. My hand traced the dark circles under his eyes, and he leant against my touch before looking to the window, still allowing me to touch him. No doubt from whatever stimulant or depressant he’d taken, his words had been more candid than ever before. 

 “A cocktail of sorts. Will fucking regret it in the mornin’. Probably.” 

 He looked back to me, and I didn’t have time to wipe the concern from my face. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. It’s okay. It doesn’t matter,” he stated.

 He really believed it when he said it, and the way there didn’t seem to be enough energy left in him made me settle back in his arms with a frown. Because it did matter. It mattered a lot. A few moments later, he squeezed my sides. “You didn’t answer my question,” he mumbled. 

 “What question?” 

 He waited until I looked up at him, and even then he was hesitant. His voice was quiet when he spoke, intimate, so if even if someone was standing at the foot of the bed they couldn’t hear what he was about to ask. 

 “Why do you want me, Y/N?” 

 The vulnerable question hung in the air. And though it was presumptuous of him to ask, he wasn’t wrong. His eyes read me like a book he’d read a hundred times over. He saw me. I swallowed, my brain and heart at an all-out war. Unfortunately for me, they captured my tongue in a stale-mate. “I don’t know what I want.”

 And it was true. The dilemma was the following:

The only thing my body wanted was him. 

But my brain didn’t know if that’s what I should be     wanting anymore.  

And my heart was left in the middle of them both, not     sure what it was feeling. 

 I felt him shrug. “I get it. I have so many opinions shouting at me in my head right now. About soccer, my fucked family, about” - he threw his hands between us.  

 After Niall had greeted me at the door, I was sure Harry had talked about us in some capacity. But how many people had opinions on our relationship? “Let me guess. Viv shares her opinion about us.” 

 “I don’t listen to hers.” 

 “But hey, at least she fucks you right.” 

 He sucked in a breath, shaking his head. “I didn’t mean that.” 

 “But it’s true, right? So no need to apologize.” 

 The room froze over. Just the thought of her whispering in his ear was enough to trigger an entire week’s worth of pent-up animosity. 

 “So maybe people are confused why Viv and I aren’t together but I couldn’t give a fuck about what they think. I fucking hate that we’re even talking about her right now.”

 “What do they say?” 

 He rolled his eyes, hurriedly slanting his voice, “Viv’s gorgeous mate, she clearly wants you. What the fuck are you doing now?” 

 I flinched. He noticed. “Look, I seriously hate talking about this. Can we talk about the fact that I didn’t invite anyone tonight?” 

 “Aw, was Viv busy?”

 “Alright, stop.” 

 A chill shot down my spine at the rejection. As much as I wanted to appreciate the fact he didn’t invite anyone, it didn’t help. This wasn’t helping at all. “I’m sorry if I want to talk about your relationships that directly affect me,” I said, rolling out of his arms.

 “Y/N, please. It’s not like that.” His voice was tired, pleading, coaxing me to forget. 

 “But why are you like this? Why did you just say what you did to me?”

 “You asked me-”

 “It was very belittling.” I changed my voice to a dopey British accent, “Viv’s gorgeous what the fuck are you doing with Y/N?” I ignored his scowl. “Really, thanks for the best compliment of the night.” I pushed against his chest, annoyed. “And why are you being like this now? All cuddly and-”

 “It’s not one-sided.” 

 I felt my cheeks heat. “Not tonight. But it’s one-sided any other time.”   

 “S’that what you really think of me?” He pulled me closer, and I fought the urge to twist away. His forehead pressed into my hair. “Firstly, you’re fucking beautiful Y/N. You have to know this. And you have to know you’re important to me. And secondly…”

 “Thirdly,” I corrected.

 His eyes turned somber. “They’re watching,” he mumbled, pleading. “This is hard for me, too.” 

 The gang, the cops, both, whichever it was, it didn’t matter. The effect was the same. No matter how special he claimed I was to him, we always went in circles. Maybe he had gotten it right. Maybe it was better for both of us if we weren’t together. “Why is it so hard then?” I whispered. 

 “Nothing good comes easy.”

 I remained silent. It was a cop-out response.

 He ran a hand down his face and sat up. “Because I’m fucked! I’m fucked, Y/N and there’s only so many people I can hide from. And you aren’t one of them.” 

 It was the most candid he’d ever been with me, without revealing anything at all.

 A knock sounded at the door. 

 I went to move, but he kept me against him, covering my ears as he shouted- 

 “FUCK OFF!!” 

 But even with his hands over my ears, it wasn’t very muted. The knock grew louder, more obnoxious. 

 “Sorry,” he grumbled, moving to open the door. When it opened, a boy wearing a snapback around the same height as Harry leant against the doorframe.

 “Wassup, man-” Snapback almost burst in.

 Harry’s back went stiff as the stranger’s snapback practically poked Harry in the eye. If their overcompensating confidence and too-familiar smile told me anything – freshmen. At least Snapback’s friend wore a Bond-inspired bow-tie t-shirt.

 Harry put a hand to Snapback’s chest, backing him back out of the room. They watched me walk up behind him.

 “Hey, relax man, we just wanted to get some zombies,” Bowtie bargained. 

 “You’ve got some fucking balls,” he snarled.

 My ears pricked. He was looking for the same thing, then. From Harry. My heart sunk to the lowest part of my belly after remembering why I’d come here in the first place. The sliver of hope I’d had was that maybe what Zayn had witnessed was just Harry’s past. A summer blunder. A summer fling with an illegal hobby. You know, some kids did drugs, some kids sold drugs... It was a ridiculously stupid comparison now that I thought about it. But still, I had hope. Now my undeniable denial was being shred up right in front of me.

 The cops, the gang, the drugs circulating campus…

 Harry had made his bed, and I was lying in it. 

 I squeezed past him.

 “Wait, are you leaving?” He still blocked his doorway.

 I ignored the pang of guilt I felt at his boyish disappointment. He looked at me, body still intimidatingly rigid, but his eyes, impossibly soft. Snapback tried to move past him again and Harry whipped his head back with a growl. “Get the fuck out of here.” 

 “Excuse me?” Bowtie came closer, puffing out his muscled chest. Testosterone, angst and alcohol were never the best combination. I grew nervous at the tension, looking from my escape at the end of the hall, back to Harry. 

 “C’mon, we have the cash. We’ll pay double!” Snapback whined, cornering him. 

 The words made me nauseous, conjuring the image of Viv sliding Harry the cash. I didn’t want to see this again. I didn’t want to see anything again.

 “I don’t do that shit anymore.” He strode through their barricade, determined, but Bowtie tugged him back. His nostrils flared and I could tell he was trying to keep his cool. He could ruin these guys if he wanted to. I don’t know why he was letting them keep him. But I also didn’t know why I didn’t run away. It was like watching a train wreck seconds before it happened.

 I stood alone, in the center of the hall, the only person on Harry’s horizon. A lighthouse hoping to steer the sailor home.

 “C’mon, please man, everyone’s talking about them. We just need one,” Snapback exhorted. He put up his hands, pleading. “We’ll split one. We’ll seriously cut it in half.” 

 Even from here, I could see the muscles in his neck tense. I tried doing to him what he did to everyone else. I trapped him, wide-eyed, anchoring him to me. He didn’t break our stare.

 As if each word scraped against his skull, “I said I don’t do that shit.”

 “That’s a fucking joke. Mark got some last week,” Bowtie barked.

 I saw the moment I lost him. In what world I thought I could be enough to harbor him, I had no idea. Harry snapped, kicking the steroid-pumped kid so hard in the knee, it knocked him down. It wasn’t a broken bone, but it’d leave one hell of a bruise.  

 “Dude, are you crazy?!” Snapback cried. 

 Harry raised his fist, bringing it flying. I gasped and hid my face. But I didn’t hear an impact. I faced them again.

 Harry’s fist froze inches before his cheek. Facing what would have been a badly broken nose, Bowtie shook on the floor. Slowly, ever so slowly, Harry relaxed his hovering fist and folded his arms, squatting next to the quivering guy. “You’re fucking welcome I was in a good mood ‘fore you came, otherwise I wouldn’t be acting so polite.”  

 The squeak of a floorboard shook Harry back to Earth. He caught me walking away and his whole body straightened, once again hyper-focused on me, trying to tune in and trap me exactly where I stood. Taking advantage of his distraction, Snapback and Bowtie ran for it. Bowtie limped, running into me and knocking me off-balance as he passed.

 In a second, it was just us. 

 “Y/N,” he began, walking towards me cautiously. 

 “No.” 

 He stopped in his tracks. He was tall, but his shoulders hung in despondent defeat.

 “You were right, Harry.” 

 I could see how tired he was. I could see the broken pieces fitting into something beautiful. He looked so sad and regretful, I already felt guilty for saying,

 “You can’t hide anymore.” And with one last look at the broken boy before me, “You are fucked.” 

 Suddenly, the beer on the floor was just stale and sticky. The couches were filthy from strangers’ mistakes. And the air would never be clear. Harry had been right. This entire house was filled with people who didn’t care and if they did, they were trying to forget; a place more empty than if it were vacant. It was a mess just like the boy living in it. And just like the grand house, impressive at first glance, not all of his parts were beautiful.

 I ignored the way his broken pieces seemed to shatter as soon as I said it and the way it hurt me ten-fold. I ignored him calling out my name as I maneuvered through the blur of bodies, until I lost his voice on the dance floor. I could breathe better outside and I walked past the cops without acknowledging them. 

 From complete chaos to relative quiet, my ears rung, filling the new silence.

 Maybe this was the last time we’d speak. Maybe this was how it all should’ve ended that first day in September. Because in that house, that wasn’t the Harry I thought I’d knew. That was a boy far-gone, confused, and I was falling down with him. I was ANGRY. I PITIED him. And I was angry for feeling something else I should never have felt for him.

 Somehow, in this fuzzy ringing world buzzing with heated thoughts and cop lights that blurred my vision, I heard a notepad scribble as soon as I passed a squad car. 

 Lucky for me, Momma always said I had selective hearing.

part 21

#fratboy! harry #fratboy!harry #harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles #one direction #1direction #one direction imagine #one direction smut #one direction one shot #harry imagine #harry styles preference #one direction preferences #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #onedirection #niall horan #zayn malik #louis tomlinson #liam payne #smut #fluff #angst #harry one shot

[kats-kradle]

This is fucking awful and also late but here’s day one of Whumptober

Ronon woke with a start, his arms exploding in pain. It took him a moment to realize he was chained to a ceiling. He glanced around, taking in his surroundings. It was a smallish, dank cell with light coming in through a small window. There was someone else chained up across from him- Carson, he realized. The events of the past few hours came flooding back- they had gone to Vraerkon to trade for... something. He supposed they were trading medical services and supplies for whatever it was. He had gone along as protection, but they were ambushed by a small group of rebels.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” Carson commented in relief as he spied Ronon looking around, “how’s your head, lad?” Ronon moved his head back a forth trying to test the mobility of it. A wave of dizziness and nausea swept over him.

“It’s good,” he lied through his teeth, trying to orient himself again. He could sense the other man rolling his eyes.

“I might not be able to check ye myself at the moment, but I’m still a doctor, and ye are terrible at lying. How’s your head?” He asked again, in a ton that left no room for argument. Ronon looked away as if he was child being scolded for something he wasn’t supposed to do.

“It hurts and when I move it fast I get dizzy,” he admitted. Carson nodded.

“How does it hurt? Just in one area or is it like a throbbing pain everywhere?” He asked. Ronon thought for a moment.

“The second one,” he decided. Carson nodded again.

“Well, ye might have a concussion but I’d have to check ye myself to be sure.” The door opened and in entered a Vraerkon whose face was disfigured with dozens of scars.

“Welcome, Atlantians,” he greeted with mock hospitality, “I am Ulbar. Who would like to be first?” Ronon wisely kept his mouth shut, and hoped that the doctor would have to sense to do the same.

“First for what?” Carson asked. Ronon groaned internally, his head still spinning. Ulbar grinned, pulling a rod out from behind his back.

“Why the torture, of course! And look, a volunteer!” He said cruelly. The blood left Carson’s face in a second as Ulbar began approaching him with the rod held threateningly. Ronon’s mind worked frantically, unable to stand the terrified look on his friend’s face.

“Agh, that’s gross,” he called out. Ulbar threw a glance at him, a scowl on his face.

“Something you wish to say?” It was more of a threat than a question. Ronon shrugged, hoping he wouldn’t convey much emotion.

“It’s just that you’re even uglier from the back,” he commented. He knew how vain the Vraerkons were, and was hoping that his comment would enrage Ulbar enough. It didn’t, and the other man simply rolled his eyes and started back towards Carson. Ronon’s heart leap in his chest.

“You know, I think your face reminds me of a disfigured pig,” he called out. Despite his best efforts, a tone of desperation worked its way into his voice. Ulbar paused, turning slowly. A foul grin formed on his face and he wandered across the room casually.

“Do not think for a moment that I do not know what you are doing,” he commented, using the rod to lift Ronon’s chin, “and I must say, you are truly foolish, young one,” he hissed. Ronon could see Carson from behind Ulbar, and the terrified look on the doctor’s face spurred him on.

“And you’re really, really ugly,” he said honestly. Ulbar laughed- a horrible, grating sound, like someone regurgitating gravel.

“I speak true when I say that I will enjoy watching you break,” he growled. Ronon grinned, although it was more of baring his teeth.

“Strong words from a man who smells like a pile of-” the swift punch to his stomach managed to catch him off guard and he sagged in the chains as the air left him. Ulbar watched him in sick satisfaction, and Carson jolted forward.

“What was it you were saying?” Ulbar taunted, pulling Ronon’s head back abruptly by his hair. Ronon let out a grunt, fighting the wave of dizziness and nausea.

“That all you got? Come on, I thought this would be more fun,” he taunted.

“Ronon, what are ye doing?” Carson hissed from the other side of the room. Ulbar smirked, staring down Ronon, who held his stare unwaveringly.

“The young one thinks he can protect you,” he commented lightly to Carson, not breaking the stare, “but do not worry, once I break him, you will be next. That is, unless you want to go first, hm?” He asked, looking away from Ronon to gesture threateningly with his rod. Ronon took the opportunity to kick him as hard as he could, knocking him over. He was up again in a minute, searing rage twisting his ugly face even further.

“You will pay for that, boy!” He yelled, backhanding Ronon with such force that his whole body was jerked in that direction. Before he had time to recover, Ulbar unleash his fury and blow after blow rained down on his defenseless torso, leaving behind stinging welts, each one bringing forth a grunt of pain from Ronon.

“I’ll make you scream before the hour is over,” he promised menacingly, pausing to switch out the rod for a heavy metal pipe. Ronon slumped forward in his chains, panting. “What, getting tired already?” Ulbar taunted. Ronon glared at him and spat a glob of blood onto his face. Ulbar roared in anger and swung the pipe, catching Ronon in the side and making him swing in his chains with a cry.

“Stop it! Please, you’ll kill him,” Carson yelled, straining his chains. Ulbar laughed cruelly, swinging the pipe with more force. A sickening crack and a nauseating scream followed. Carson could tell that Ulbar had just cracked, if not broken one of Ronon’s ribs. Ulbar stood with a surprised and amused smile forming on his face.

“Who knew that a simple pipe would be all it takes to make you scream?” He said in a way that one would comment on the weather. Ronon didn’t answer, every exhale coming out in a pained groan. Carson knew that Ronon truly would die before telling anything, and he couldn’t stand by and watch Ronon get himself killed.

“I’ll tell ye anything ye want to hear!” He burst out. Ulbar paused, mid-swing.

“What?” He asked, turning his attention away from Ronon, who struggled to stand.

“No- doc, don’t-” he yelled again as Ulbar hit him without even looking at him.

“I can tell ye anything ye want to know, just please stop!” Carson begged, pushing down his guilt. Ulbar approached him slowly, sinking down to his level.

“I am terribly sorry, but I only want to hear it from him,” he said in mock apologetic tone. Carson’s heart sank in horror as he threw a glance at his friend- he knew that as strong as Ronon was, he couldn’t last much longer.

“But I know more than he does, I can tell ye about how-” Ulbar quickly stuffed a foul tasting cloth into his mouth and secured it with another.

“Come now, we cannot have you spoiling anything. And we were just starting to have fun, weren’t we?” Ulbar asked Ronon. Carson screamed uselessly as Ulbar marched back across the room to Ronon and began his ruthless assault once more. Ronon swung like a piñata at a birthday party. He seemed to no longer have the strength to hold himself up or control his screams. Each cry of pain seared Carson’s heart and he knew the sounds would haunt him until he died. Ulbar danced around Ronon, laughing like a crazy man as he beat Ronon over and over.

The sound of gunfire interpreted Ulbar mid-swing, and suddenly the door was flung across the room, narrowly missing him. Carson felt as though he could cry from joy as John ran in and immediately filled Ulbar with holes. Teyla and Rodney were right behind him, and Rodney ran over to Carson as John and Teyla went to Ronon.

“Are you okay? What happened? You guys didn’t check in at the right time- or at all, for that matter,” Rodney rambled as he tore the gag out and got to work on the chains that held Carson. He almost fell without the support of the chains, and his arms shook as the circulation was resorted.

“I’m fine, just get me to Ronon,” he insisted. Rodney quickly complied, helping him cross the room. Ronon had been eased to the ground, his head cradled in Teyla’s lap. Carson dropped to his knees beside the other man.

“What happened?” Teyla asked him. He only half heard her and immediately began to check Ronon for a concussion, feeling around his head- there was some bleeding, but it didn’t seem to be anything that would cause him to bleed out. He moved on the the ribcage. Bruising was already starting to form, and it seemed there wasn’t an inch of skin that wasn’t covered in an angry welt. He heard Teyla gasp and John let out a muttered curse, but ignored them, trying to assess the damage. Ronon cried out as he pressed on his broken ribs and Teyla ran a hand across his hair in a soothing motion.

“I’m sorry, lad,” Carson murmured apologetically. Ronon didn’t reply, his eyes squeezed shut.

“I need to look at his back. Help me roll him onto his side- gently, we don’t want to hurt him more,” he told the others. Rodney and John were quick to obey. Ronon’s back didn’t look as bad as the front had, but it still looked painful. Carson finished with a sigh, signaling for Rodney and John to roll Ronon back over.

“From what I can tell, two broken ribs and three cracked ones, and he definitely has a concussion,” he reported. Rodney let out a soft “oh, God,” that sounded halfway between a curse and and actual prayer.

“What happened?” John asked firmly. Carson sighed and gave them an overview of what had transpired.

“And before any of ye say anything, I do not take back the fact that I would have told him everything if it would make him stop,” he said with a defensive glare.

“I do not believe any of us would have withheld information were we in your place,” Teyla said with a sad smile. Ronon shifted from the ground, making as if to sit up, but sank back with a groan.

“Hey- uh, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Rodney asked him incredulously.

“We have to get moving, don’t we?” Ronon tried again, sucking in a breath as his ribs shifted. John pushed him back down again gently.

“There’s a med team on its way. You are not moving, and that’s an order,” he said sternly. Ronon glowered at him, but laid still.

“You just took a beating, I do not think you would get very far,” Teyla added.

“And it was a damn stupid thing to do, I hope ye know that,” Carson snapped. Ronon gave an attempt at a shrug.

“Someone... someone’s gotta keep you in business,” he rasped out. Carson let out a laugh that bordered on hysteria, dropping his head into his hands.

“I’m going to strangle ye myself one of these days,” he choked out. Ronon grinned and was about to retort when they heard hurried footsteps in the corridor. John sprang up and ran into the hall brandishing his gun, but dropped it in relief as the medical team entered.

“He’s in here, and be careful,” he directed. Carson briefed them on Ronon’s condition and the team was quick to load him onto the stretcher. They offered one for the doctor as well but he declined in favor of walking next to Ronon’s.

“Hey doc,” Ronon muttered as they traveled down the hall, “we should hang out more. I don’t mean- not hang out like hang out, but... yeah,” he finished. Carson huffed a laugh.

“Don’t worry, I understand. I’d like that, lad,” he assured, giving Ronon’s shoulder a squeeze, “just please promise me ye won’t do anything stupid like that again.” Ronon shrugged, his eyes starting to droop as the IV he had started to kick in.

“I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he promised. Carson sighed in frustration, but he couldn’t deny that he was touched.

“You’re impossible,” he accused.

“I know.”

#whumptober2020 #whumptober day one #stargate atlantis #Ronon Dex #carson beckett #Rodney McKay #teyla emmagan #John Sheppard #torture #writing #my writing #like i said this is fucking awful but who cares #i have more lined up that are better and will be on time #maybe

[themarcusmoreno]

unsteady

an: this doesn’t have a read more bc i don’t know how to do them tbh AND i’m posting from mobile. any errors present are yet again my own. i tried to give my dumbass, baby boy javier what i took away in timing is everything. i suggest listening to this version of the song that inspired the title and i hope that you guys enjoy it, i’m proud of this one. i left this with a possiblity for more, if that’s something you’d like to see let me know! feedback is welcome! //// tagging: @spacedadheadcanons, @bonkybaaarnes, @callingmrsbarnes, @buckywiththegoodglare, @drakecaggiula91, @thatsonehellofajedi, @mando-vibes, @i-like-those-odds, @i-am-forever-a-fan, @fvckingavengers, @ikeatwins776

You found becoming a DEA agent to be an easy task, falling into the training and field work like they were second nature. You made a name for yourself, eager to the fight and quick to solve the issues presented to you. So, when the opportunity came for you to take an open post in Colombia, in Bogotá, you took it. Transportig your life to the new country seemed easy enough but finding your place amongst the senior agents proved troublesome, especially when Javier Peña seemed to be involved. You'd been placed with him and his partner, Steve Murphy. Where Steve had warmed up to you quickly, Javier stayed distant and cold. Every bit the asshole you had been warned he would be.

Over the coming months, you saw small breaks in the persona the man presented. Whether it was when you joined he and Steve for drinks after a particularly rough day or at the "family dinners" that Connie held once a week. You, even in the briefest of moments, got to see a different side of him. One that showed the crinkle of his face as he laughed at one of the jokes Steve shared, the warmth of his smile as he watched Connie with the Murphy’s little girl and even the lingering glance he'd give you as you told stories about your early days as an agent. A smirk played on his lips every time he saw you home safely and bid you goodnight.

"You know if you keep this up I may think you actually like me or something, Peña." A smile spreads across you face as you lean against the doorway of your apartment.

"Now what would give you that idea?" Javier has a smile of his own as watches you, arms crossed over his chest and head tilted upward ever so slighty.

You chuckle and roll your eyes, turning to disappear into your quiet home. "Goodnight, Javier."

A brief wave of somethig like sadness fills his chest as he watces you turn away, his arm aching to reach out and grasp yours but instead he is met with the soft click of your door. "Yeah.. goodnight, cariña." He mumbles, sighing and rubbing his jaw before he backs away to head to his own place just a floor below.

In the coming weeks, you saw more of that change in Javier. Once in him lingering near the entrance of the office long after finishing his cigarette, fresh cup of coffee in hand for the both of you. You hid the soft smile that crept on to your face at the gesture behind your cup, walking along with him as he explaied yet another lead in the hunt for Escobar. You saw it again in him seeking you out after another raid had failed and your team had lost four men. You'd be alone, gathering your own thoughts when the knocking at the door had pulled you from your silence. Wiping your face quickly, you opened the door to him standing there looking no better than you felt. His jaw clenched and eyes tired as he took your appearance in slowly.

"Mind if I come in?" The softness of his request betraying the way his features held such frustration. You gave a slight nod and made your way back to the chair you'd previously occupied. When he speaks again there's something in his tone you can't quite place, concern maybe. "I couldn't find you when we got back. You disappeared and nobody saw where you went. I thought you'd left. I needed - wanted to make sure you were okay."

You were silent a few seconds before you brought your gaze to his, fresh tears threatening to spill. "Would you be? I lost men, Jav. I lost four good men because of a fucking raid I planned." There's a bite to your words, not at the man in front you but at the pain in knowing you'd cost someone their life for something you believed in, something you trusted. A wave of nausea brought you to your feet, the emotions overwhelming. You let the tears fall, not noticing the gentle pressure of Javier's hand on your arm as he pulled you close. You didn't fight him, instead you turned into him and gave yourself over to the sobs that racked your body.

"Easy, cariña. Easy." Javier rubbed the small of your back, holding you close and letting you cry. His heart broke for the pain you felt and the thought of the guilt you carried. "What happen.. What happen today, it wasn't your fault. The best laid plans fall apart every fucking day and I know that better than anyone else. So does Steve. But this, this raid and what happen to those men wasn't your fault. You want someone to blame, you blame me. Not yourself, me. Understand?"

You listened to him, your tears slowing as spoke to you. Firm but gentle. When you did't respond he said your name softly, repeating his question. "Blame me, no one else. Understand?" He gave you gentle squeeze, words slightly muffled by your hair as he rested his chin against you.*You nodded slowly, pulling away from his tear strained shirt, and answering. "I understand but - "

"No buts. You did your job well today and thats what matters for now. Losing men is never easy but we recover, come back harder the next time and you can bet we will. Harder and faster than this time. We'll avenge the fallen and take that bastard Escobar down a peg or two when we do." Javier looks over your face, absentmindedly reaching to brush a stray tear from your cheek. He lets his hand linger before he shakes his head a little and steps back. "You should take the day. I'll get your reports done. Just go home and rest, yeah?"

You don't stop him as he pulls away, don't reach out fo him the way you want, instead you nod slowly and wrap your arms around yourself to savor the bit of his warmth left. "Are you sure, Jav?"

"Positive, miel. Go home, rest and I'll check on you when I get done here." He gives you a soft smile, not hesitating to reach out and brush your hair from your face. "Maybe I'll bring food too."

"Nothing you cook though because I want to survive the night." You smirk, laughing at his look of shock. "Sorry, you're a great agent but a shit cook." When he grumbles a response, you just shake your head and press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, Jav." You squeeze his arm and smile, glancing back at him before you step out into the hallway.

He feels it then, the unsteady beating of his heart as he watches you leave. The feel of your lips still on his cheek and your scent lingering on his shirt, he knows what it is but he won't say it, at least not aloud. He just sighs, "Shit..."

The month that follows is different, you can't place it but something is different between you and Javier. He's more attentive, checks in on you more frequently. Lingering touches, soft smiles and few too many quiet moments shared for you to keep ignoring whatever may be there growing between the two of you. You don't get to bring it up to him, address the elephant in the room, before another wave of information comes in. Leads you needed to help the raid you, Javier and Steve were planning. Though leery to go out again, your partners encouragement had you eager to finally put a dent in the armor Pablo Escobar thought he wore.

"We've get every possibly scenario covered. Too many guards, too few guards. Nothing in the lab, something in the lab. Civilians present, no civilians present. I'm not saying it's perfect but its about the best damn plan we've had in a while." Steve looks up from the map to the small gathering of men, including you.

"Doesn't mean we shouldn't be careful. Expect the unexpected, I don't want another repeat of last time." Your arms cross over your chest as you look at everything spread across the table. “Everyone gets a vest, everyone has a partner. You watch each others back. We work quickly, we get home faster."

"Well you heard her. Date prisa, go get the gear and be out front in ten." Javier gives your arm a firm squeeze and winks before he joins the other men leaving the room.

You feel his gaze on you before you speak, sighing as you look at Steve. “What Murph?"

"You gonna tell him?" Steve quirks an eyebrow as he pops his gum and rocks on his heels.

Your breath catches and you brush it off as a cough as you start to speak again. "I don't know what you mean. There's nothing to tell anyone."

Steve scoffs, shaking his head as he gathers things from the table. "Uh huh. You keep telling yourelf that, darlin.” He smiles and squeezes your shoulder, "If it helps, he feels the same way. I've been that asshole's partner long enough to know when he's fallen for someone and that someone happens to be you." He heads towards the door, glancing back once more. "Just... Just don't wait too long to tell him. With our job, we aren't always promised tomorrow. But I told him the same thing and so far no one has made a move.”

You hesitate in the now quiet room and let Steve's words sink. Whatever you felt, Javier felt it too. You wouldn't wait past today, you'd tell him as soon as you could. "I'll tell him tonight." With vocal confirmation, you nodded to yourself and went out to join your men.

Javier had been right that day in the office as he held you close, the best laid plans really do fall apart and its usually in the worst of ways. There had been an ambush waiting, a leak from your own department tipping the guards off. You were all outnumbered before you even got there, but when you did you gave them hell. Losing two of your own men as they worked to stop the assault. When the man you'd paired yourself with was taken down, you felt the fear of not making it set in. It make you hyper aware, but not enough. Javier had covered your six after your partner went down, keeping an eye on Steve as well. That's how he saw him, lurking just out of your peripheral vision and coming up fast. The solid body crashing into you was enough to distract you from the shots but when the body didn't hurriedly move, you knew something was wrong. You shifted enough and the body of your protector landed beside you, causing him to groan lowly. You could see the blood pooling slowly, panic rising as your eyes traveled up to his face. Javier.

"Steve, fuck! Steve, get some medic here. Javi is shot, he's bleeding out!" You look around for Steve, locking eyes with him as he brings his walkie to his mouth.

"Necesito abulancia. Oficial de policía abajo." He listens to the feedback and curses. "Goddamnit! They're ten minutes out, he got that long?"

You survey the area of the pooling blood, grimacing at the pained sound Javier produces. "Maybe.. I can't be sure. He took a couple rounds, looks like they went through but its not good. It doesn't look good, Murph." You feel the familar burn of tears as they start to form. Steve's voice fading away as you look down to the soft call of your name. "Jav? Take it easy for me, okay? Try not to move."

Javier blinks softly, the vision of you him above edged in darkness. "Mi sol.." He winces, grasping at your hand as you press it against the wounds. "Oh mi sol, I'm sorry."

His sun. You blink back tears as you look him, cupping his face carefully with your free hand. "Javier, why? Why would you do this?" You don't hold back, letting the tears fall freely. The sound of the ambulance outside not pulling you from the moment. "Javi, why? I don't - I can't lose you now."

Javier smiles, its weak and fading but he smiles as he squeezes you hand and starts to lose consciousness. "This.. This is about keeping you alive." When he starts to drift off, he hears hurried spanish and your cries.

A week. Javier Peña lays in a drug induced coma for a week before he starts to become aware again. Its slow at first, a groan that has you gathering a nurse then a few mumbled curses as starts to fully wake up. You watch him drink slowly from the cup of offered water. Closing his eyes again before he slowly opens them once more to scan the room, you hear his breath catching softly as he looks at you. You don't hear the nurse leave, you don't feel yourself move until your close to his side and his hand is in yours. The warm, tan skin familiar and welcome in your grasp.

You get choked up as you start to speak, the reassuring squeeze of his hand in yours bring the words forward. "I.. I thought I lost you."

Javier's voice comes out soft, raspy from lack of use. "Can't kill me if they wanted to, miel. I'm too fucking stubborn to die." He laughs and grimaces, shifting in the bed for you to have room to sit.

You reach up, rubbing his cheek gently once you finally join him. "Well you at least got the stubborn part right." You tease, wiping your eyes as you look at him. Stubble lines his jaw and chin, his hair unkempt and you know he's never looked better. Never looked more alive.

"What's on your mind?" He questions, running his thumb over your knuckles as he watches your eyes shift over him.

"Do you remember what you said? Before you blacked out?" You work your lip between your teeth before he slowly reaches up and pulls it free.

"Si." He cups your cheek, no hesitation in his movements. "Por qué?"

"What did you mean? 'This is about keeping you alive.' What does that mean?" You lean into his hand, savoring the feel of him against your skin.

Javier shifts, taking his hand from your face and wincing he sits up more. When he's finally up and stable, he leans in presses a soft kiss to your lips. Sighing against your mouth as you return his affection, he breaks the kiss and rest your foreheads together. "It means that I can't picture my life without you in it and I don't want to. I'm sorry I waited so long to tell you that, to tell you I love you."

You smile, matching his own as you kiss him again. "Glad to know it takes almost dying to get you to confess your feelings." You joke, closing your eyes and basking in the moment with Javier. "I love you too and I'm not going anywhere."

#*unsteady #javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena #narcos #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character x reader #pedro pascal character #ash writes

[shoutoismybaby]

Bakugous crush gets hit on...

Im on mobile so sorry for the weird set-up

Warnings for Cusing and Physical Violence

***

Bakugou had developed a crush on you since the day you got snarky with him over yelling at Izuku. Izuku had stepped on his foot on accident, setting the blonde off into another one of his rage fits. Usually, this was something you would have ignored, like the rest of the class that had become accustomed to his outbursts. But the night before you had stayed up watching Netflix, meaning you had gotten no sleep. Which lead to your tolerance level for the day plummeting to an all-time low. He hadn't even noticed as you pushed yourself out of your seat until you were standing in front of him, jabbing a finger at his chest and causing him to stumble back a few inches. He had opened his mouth the yell at you, but you simply interrupted him.

“Do you EVER shut up?” It took him a couple of seconds to register just what was going on, just like the rest of the class. They had never seen you angry before. “You are so fucking extra! It's 7, AM, it’s too early for your bullshit, Bakugou. Some of us didn’t sleep well last night and would like some peace and quiet. It’s not us ‘extras’ fault no one listens to you at home.”

With that you turned around on the ball of your foot, ponytail smacking him across the face. Almost emphasizing your point in a way. Everyone watched as you sat back down in your seat and took this as a warning to never piss you off.

 That was the day he began to remember your name, and start thinking about you outside of class. It was annoying to him for a while that he couldn't seem to get you out of his head. Every time he went out with his friends, he wondered if you would somehow run into them. Each time he tried a new food, his brain wanted to know if you would like it. Every time you changed something about yourself, such as your hairstyle, he would notice. And he couldn’t stop thinking about it until he fell asleep at night.

It didn’t register in his head that he had a crush on you for a while. Not until Mina had been gushing about a boy she had met at a coffee shop, talking about how she never stopped thinking about him. As soon as it hit him that he viewed you the same way Mina viewed the random barista, he interrupted the whole conversation with-

“If any of you extras ask out (F/n) (L/n), I will kill you.”

And that soon became the unspoken rule of the class. 

Not only did people not want Bakugou to target them, most of them also thought that you two would make a cute couple. You seemed to balance each other out. He was very aggressive, and you were typically passive. However, you could kick Bakugou off of his high horse if you needed to. And that's what he liked most about you. Not only were you cute, but you also had a backbone.

Unfortunately for him, he wasn’t the only guy to notice this. It was rare that the class could go one day without someone who didn’t know about Bakugou's threat hitting on you. Not that they would do it twice, considering Bakugou made sure they were aware of the threat soon after.

Many people wondered why Bakugou didn’t just ask you out. When asked, he simply yelled at them that it was none of their business. In reality, he didn’t think you felt the same way as him, and he didn’t really want to create the awkwardness that would come with you rejecting him.

Until you changed his mind of course.

It was about 30 minutes before class, and Bakugou was wondering the halls in an attempt to get rid of the extras he occasionally thought of as friends. He had passed the classroom he spent most of his time in, 1-A, only to backtrack when he realized the door was open. Aizawa was always late, so why would the door be open? He almost charged in to yell at whoever was in there when he heard your voice.

“Oh, you think so?” He snuck over to the opening of the door and peeked around it. You were holding a textbook, Hero Laws Volume 2 if Bakugou recalled correctly, and using it as a flat surface to write on next to his desk. Why you weren't just using his desk to write on, he didn't know. 

But the person in front of his desk is what made him lose his cool. It was a third-year boy, and from the look at his stance, he was trying to make a move.

Bakugou contemplated busting in and interrupting the whole conversation, but it would be too obvious what he was trying to do. And you would have questions he couldn't answer. So he waited,

“Yeah, I think we would end up being both the cutest and the most powerful couple on campus.” This statement caused Bakugou's blood to boil, and you to freeze. It took you a moment to regain your bearings, 

“You just met me yesterday,” You scoffed, rolling your eyes as you bent over and set the textbook down on Bakugou's desk, beginning to sign your name on the paper that sat on top of it.

“I don’t see how that matters,” the boy replied, closing the distance between you two. But you hadn’t noticed, focusing too much on making your name neat and wishing you hadn't chosen to write with a pen. “It doesn’t change my feelings.”

It was then that you regretted taking your eyes off the boy as you jumped, his hand has made its way to your bum, giving it a squeeze you did not give permission to.

Bakugou at this point began to run into the room so that he could kill the son of a bitch, only to have you beat him to it.

Letting go of the pen, you had picked up the textbook. Allowing the paper to fly off as the large book connected with the jerk's face. Knocking him out cold instantly. Bakugou watched for a moment as you stood there, face red and quickly looking up at him. He was in the middle of the room now, frozen. Seeing your panic, he took a deep breath.

“Are you okay?” He asked, attempting to use an indifferent tone.

“Um, yeah. I was just… I wasn't expecting that.” You sighed, dropping the book and crossing your arms over your chest. “Do you think he’s okay?”

“Is he okay?! Are you kidding me?” Bakugou's anger instantly came back. Why did you care about the pervert who just assaulted you?

“I..” You trailed off, seeming unable to come up with a response. THough your mind was racing. You instantly felt uncomfortable in your own skin, and all of the confidence you had talked into yourself that morning quickly crumbled. You felt too exposed. Too vulnerable.

Even though you were the one who had caused your attacker to be unconscious on the floor. Something about having your bodily autonomy invaded, even though some wouldn't have found it to be that big of a deal, made you want to scrub your body with soap over and over. You felt invaded. All you wanted to do at that moment was to go home. Maybe cry.

You weren't sure. Your thoughts were rushing by you so fast you weren't sure how to react. Maybe you were still in shock.

Bakugou's eyes narrowed as he took in your form. You had curled into yourself, making you seem small and fragile. It was a state he had never seen you in before. So scared and uncomfortable.

It made him angry. This lowlife had no right to touch you, much less even look at you. He was luckily that you would most likely prevent Bakugou from murdering him then and there.

But the look in your eyes made Bakugou realize that he could deal with that douche later. He needed to be there for you right now. He slowly approached you and began picking things up from the floor. The pen, the textbook. These were sat on his desk before he gently grabbed your wrist, finally feeling the small shake that your body was emitting. He murmured some gruff assurances under his breath as he pushed you backwards with little force, and lead you to sit down in his chair.

You seemed dazed and stuck in your own world, so Bakugou did what he does best.

“Hey!” He yelled, “Snap out of this stupid daze thing and go back to being your normal self. You're too strong to even be worried about an extra like that. You could have blasted him into next week if you had wanted to, so stop freaking out!”

At his outburst, you flinched slightly and blinked a few times. Bakugou almost worried that he made things worse before you let out a breath neither of you knew you were holding.

“You’re right Bakugou-Kun. Thank you.” You took another couple breaths before the color seemed to return to your face. You weren't sure why, but Bakugou's yelling always seemed to ground you when you began to panic. Whether in class for a test, or in the field for training. Even if he didn't know it, and wasn't even screaming at you. Something about it always made your brain stop and slow down.

That was part of the reason you were even in class this early anyways. That thought made your eyes widen. Where did that paper go?!

“Tch, whatever. You were freaking out for no reason, it pissed me off,” he responded nonchalantly. He noticed that your eyes started to search the room. He found what you were probably looking for, the paper from earlier, near the blackboard. “This what you're looking for?” 

He started to walk over to it, stopping when you let out a squeak.

“You don't have to grab it for me Bakugou, I can get it myself.” You were pushing yourself up quickly in an attempt to stop him. But he didn’t stop.

“Sit back down you shitty girl! Its a piece of paper you idiot, also stop calling me Bakugou.” He growled out. You were prepared to argue with him over the paper, but the last thing he said stopped you in your tracks.

“What should I call you then?” Your brows furrowed,

“My name, katsuki, dumbass.” it was then that he knelt down to pick up the paper.

“Katsuki..” You tested the name out, enjoying how it sounded in your mouth. Unaware he felt the same way, he looked the paper over, but at this point, you were too distracted with the name change to remember that you didn't want him to see it. “Why do you want me to call you by your first name?”

Your question went unanswered, causing you to cock your head.

Bakugou had recognized his name written neatly at the top, and read through the love letter. The love letter that had your name written neatly at the bottom.

Reality slapped you in the face once more and your heart dropped into your stomach.

“(Y/n),” His face was almost matched his eyes as he looked back at you, and blood quickly rushed to your own face so that it matched his in hue.

“I'm sorry-”

“You could have just texted me. It would have been easier you idiot.” Your wide eyes darted up to meet his.

“What?’ You stuttered the simple word and watched as he crumpled the paper, tossing it into the wastebasket across the room perfectly.

“Did that idiot steel your brain cells or something? I’m saying I’ll go out with you, stupid girl!”

“Oh,” A soft smile fell upon your lips, “I’m glad.”

“Well of course you are! I'm THE Katsuki Bakugou, any girl would be lucky to have me.” He huffed, crossing his arms as you giggled. He looked away from you trying to hide his blush and spotted the jerk that was still snoozing away on the floor. You followed his eyes and sighed,

“What should we do with him?” You asked,

“There's 20 minutes before class starts,” Katsuki stated, his eyes meeting yours. You paused and furrowed your brows.

“...So?”

“Let's go get some breakfast.” he stuck his hands into his pocket and started to walk.

“We’re just leaving him?” You rushed after him, careful to not step on the 3rd year.

“Yeah, you have a problem with that?” He growled, you just smiled wider and hooked your arm around his.

“Not at all,” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, laughing at the way his face turned red once more.

***

#katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugou katsuki x reader #mha x reader #mha x you #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #bnha x you #nesawrites

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Two Moons

(Story Post)

On wolf nights, Nathan still spent his time at APID but now Sydryn had arranged for him to have a family suite, one big enough for the twins to stay in and for Dax to sleep over. His worry about having Dax and the twins with the wolf slowly faded as Dax often recounted to him the majority of what happens when he turned, and it was mostly nothing. The wolf fed the twins regularly when they were hungry, curled up with them when they were tired. For the most part, they all shared the bed, and Dax even got to snuggle in behind his big fluffy boyfriend to get sleep for a decent amount of time. The twins were starting to get into the habit of turning at the same time as Nathan, but it wasn’t a sure thing and Dax would have to take over when they were human, as the wolf, though gentle with them in any form, could not change diapers.

At two months old, Grace and Gabriel were hitting their development milestones on time. Both could hold their heads up while on their tummies. Both showed interest in toy and noises around them, though grabbing wasn’t yet a thing except mostly by accident. As pup and cub however, they were growing differently. Grace was developing ahead of her brother in that regard. As a pup, she was already starting to figure out some crawling techniques, and could be found chewing her dad’s ear sometimes. Gabriel on the other hand, though bigger than her, wasn’t at all mobile and constantly wanted to be feeding, always curled up at the teat. They were both eating and pooping machines, and slept a lot. The majority of the time, Nathan spent inside with the kids, while Dax would go out and get food and any supplies they needed. The pregnancy group still happened on Friday’s and if Nathan couldn’t bring himself out to their meeting room for whatever reason, the group would always swing by his room to check in and hang out. It had been a few weeks since Dari and Fay had their twins, so they were missing, but up until then they’d been in group regularly. Yori was absent a couple of weeks before as his family had gone on vacation over the school break, but he was back again and eager to talk about his trip with anyone who’d listen. Despite not going outside much, it felt like Nathan’s little family was very popular. Even APID E faculty dropped by after class times to see the babies. Because of the frequency of visitors, Nathan felt like he had seen everyone still rather regularly. Apparently not. One afternoon while he was feeding the twins, there was a strong knock on the door. Dax was taking a nap and was apparently exhausted because he didn’t even budge. “Coming.” Nathan sighed and set Grace down in her bassinet since she seemed to be done. He pulled a robe over himself and Gabriel and went to the door. Opening it, he found his dear friend Wano, violet in the face (blue blooded version of red in the face) and glaring him down. “Wano, what’s going on?” Nathan said. “Are you okay?” “Two moons,” Wano said. “Two and almost another moon and you never come to the cafeteria.” “Oh. Um, I’m really sorry…” Nathan said. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’ve been a little occupied.” Wano nodded in acknowledgment. “But you still need to eat. You should’ve come eat.” “Dax’s been bringing in food mostly,” Nathan said. “But, I’m sorry Wano. I didn’t realise our mealtimes meant that much to you. But you could’ve always stopped by.” “Am I not? I’m stopping by now,” Wano stated. “You appear healthy. Are you in good health?” “Well, that’s debatable, but mostly, yeah,” Nathan said. “Could be worse.” “Good. And you’re not likely pregnant since humans typically take time off that to raise their young for a bit, yes?” “Well, most do, sure. Maybe not Dari…” “Is that another race?” “No, it’s a friend. Never mind.” “Male?” “Yeah, why?” Wano narrowed his eyes. “What height?” “Oh, I dunno… Pretty short… Why?” Wano nodded approvingly. “Only friend sized.” “Sure?” “Good. So, being as your womb is vacant…” Wano produced a fistful of flowers from behind his back and shoved them towards Nathan. “I’d like to propose a mating partnership.” Nathan blinked and stared at the alien man. “…You want to…marry me?” Wano nodded. “Mostly, interspecies relationship is frowned upon in my culture, however humans are the originators. Your species is a precious part of the universe. To mate with you would strengthen my familial bloodline.” “Um…” Nathan couldn’t tell if it was sweet or insulting. “I’m in a relationship?” “With him?” Wano pointed to Dax still lying in bed. “I could fight him for you. I’d win. He leaves himself easily vulnerable.” “He’s napping. You’re not fighting anyone. That’s not how this works. I chose Dax,” Nathan said. “I’m happy with my choice. And it sounds like you want someone to start a family with, and frankly I’m pretty sure I don’t want to get pregnant again.” “Well, um…” Wano faltered for a moment. “It does not need to be a mating partnership… I hear your species fornicates for pleasure. Our partnership could be that.” “Wano, I’m not available for partnerships,” Nathan said. “Though your proposal has been…flattering.” “Oh.” Wano rubbed his neck. “Are you sure? I’d be a great partner.” Nathan nodded. “I’m sure. Can you accept that?” Wano lifted his chin in acceptance. “Should I go?” “No, no… Well, I mean, you should meet the kids,” Nathan suggested. “Come in.” “Oh…” Wano rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe not. I need to sleep.” “Alright. Well, we’ll catch up later, right?” Nathan said. “Maybe not.” Wano looked down and away. “Oh.” Nathan frowned, realising maybe the rejection had been harder on Wano than he thought. “Listen, I get that this isn’t easy for you, but I still want to be friends if we can be. It just takes time.” “Time is not something I have,” Wano stated. “My appeal hearing is tomorrow.” “To…Tomorrow?” Nathan blanched. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I could’ve helped you prepare!” Wano shrugged uncomfortably and motioned towards the babe in Nathan’s arms. “Right… The birth…” Nathan rubbed Gabriel’s head thinking for a moment. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though. Do you have a counsel?” “My case worker…” Wano stated, though he didn’t appear happy with that. “Well, that’s good. The case workers here are pretty good…” Wano just stayed silent, looking at his feet. Nathan placed a hand on the alien’s shoulder. “…Did you want me to be there?” Wano shook his head. “You shouldn’t want to be. You are a parent now. That is likely more important to you.” “No, well, yes… But I have Dax. He can watch the twins while I’m there. I can be a character witness, if you want that. What is the reasoning behind your removal?” “Criminal record,” Wano said. “It’s stupid… As if punching someone is a crime.” “Yes, it’s called assault,” Nathan said. “It was all the way back from when I got here. A guy looked at me weird. I punched him in the face.” “Yeah, and you don’t see a problem with that?” Nathan asked. “I know now…” Wano crossed his arms. “That kind of staring wouldn’t fly on my planet.” “Well, do you want to go back there or do you want to stay on this planet?” “Of course I want to stay,” Wano huffed. “My planet is hell.” “Then you need to win this appeal,” Nathan said. “And I’m going to help you.” “No, I—” “I know. You don’t want to ask for help. But asking for help doesn’t make you weak,” Nathan said. “In fact, I believe people only grow stronger when we work together. So, come inside.” Nathan took Wano’s arm and brought him into the suite. The alien tensed up nervously, unsure how to react to Nathan’s forceful kindness. Nathan got him to sit down at a table and went to check his calendar. “I don’t have much time since I’m still in wolf cycle, so we’ll try to cram… Dax!” The thunderbird stirred on the bed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hm?” “I’m sorry, but I need you awake,” Nathan said. “We have company.” “Company?” Dax got himself up into a seated position, leaning tiredly on his arms. He locked eyes with Wano. “Oh. You’re the broccoli guy…” “Broccoli?” Wano scrunched his nose. “Why would you associate me with green vegetation?” “Remember, when you met, we were debating about broccoli and cauliflower,” Nathan explained, getting his laptop with one hand while he continued to nurse Gabriel. The cub just couldn’t be satisfied it seemed. “Dax, I need to help Wano with his deportation appeal tomorrow so I need you to watch the kids.” “Right… I can do that,” Dax said, leaning over and checking on Grace in her bassinet. She was sound asleep for now. “Are you going to the thing?” “Yes. Do you think you can watch them then, too?” Nathan asked. “I know you haven’t been alone with them yet…” Dax gave a thumbs up. “We got this.” “Thank you, Dax.” Dax smiled to him and got up to grab his yoga mat. “You do that teacher thing you do so well and help this guy not get deported.” At the sight of the rolled mat, Wano got defensive. “What are you doing with that?” “I figured I’d get some stretching in before Grace wakes up and Gabriel sucks the last drop out of Nathan,” Dax stated. “Stretching?” Wano frowned. “What combat are you…um…anticipating?” “The battle that is parenthood,” Dax stated. “But actually, yoga is really good for your health. You don’t need to be facing combat simply to want to stretch.” “Well, once we win this appeal, you can teach Wano all about it,” Nathan said. “Wano, I don’t know much about immigration law, but what are you most worried about in this appeal?” “…I guess, just…” Wano licked his tongue. “I don’t like being asked many questions with many eyes watching… It makes me mad.” “Okay, I can help with that,” Nathan said. “I’ve had a lot of kids in my class who are nervous speakers and don’t like getting up in front of the class. And it’s even worse when you’re not prepared for questions. But there’s some strategies we can work with.” Wano nodded. “Okay…” “Alright, let’s get started.” “Thank you…”

#lore #Wano #Nathan #Dax #Gabriel #Grace #werewolf #alien #thunderbird #implied mpreg

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Here I am, minding my own business scrolling through when I stumble upon deep within. Already I’m so invested! Thank you for this wonderful story... can’t wait to read more!

I know I’ve answered this prompt, but it made me so happy that I did it twice. Enjoy the next part:

Deep Within The Darkness Peering: Part i; Chapter THREE.

“Have you ever done anything impetuous?” The question was rhetorical and John knew it having known Claire since college, she already knew that he had. “The other week someone was airlifted in, a prisoner, and I need to help him.”

“What? Claire? Are you insane?” He spluttered, holding the phone close to his ear as he paced the length of his large office in shock. A high flying barrister in the city, John rarely had to attend to questions from her regarding his job so it had come as a shock to him when she’d called so out of the blue.

“Before you say anything, he hasn’t put me up to this. Please, John, just hear me out, okay?”

“Jeez, why could this not be something simple?” He asked, massaging his temples with his free hand.

“He was up for parole but the fight that landed him in my care got back to the governors and whilst he was in the hospital they denied his request and rubber stamped it. He’s been told he can’t appeal, that it’s final. But he didn’t start the scuffle, he was so badly injured, he flatlined once on the table and spent another week in an induced coma. He told me he didn’t fight back and I trust him. I don’t know what happened, what they did to him, but something tells me their purpose was to keep him there for the foreseeable future.”

“What’s his name?” Pulling his laptop from its bag, he let it load whilst grabbing a tumbler and a new bottle of whisky, clearly it was going to be a long night.

“Jamie,” she began, shaking her head and correcting herself as she wrapped her frozen hands around a warm cup of tea, “James Fraser.”

“Christ, Claire! You know what he did right?”

Taken aback by the fact that John knew who Jamie was without even having to look him up, she nearly dropped the boiling liquid onto her lap. “Yes, but--”

“But nothing. You cannot be serious. He *beat* a captain beyond recognition and left him for dead in an alley. If they denied his request then it’s because his conviction is too severe, that and they probably don’t trust that he can rehabilitate himself." His research was leading him deeper into the case as he read the transcripts from various stages of Fraser’s trial. “How can we prove that what he says about the fight in prison is accurate? You might be right, he might not have instigated it or even lashed out during it, but I doubt there’s any evidence to support his claims.”

“So there’s nothing to be done?” Hanging her head in defeat, she let out the breath she’d been holding, her stomach feeling hollow at the prospect of failing him.

“You didn’t make him any promises, did you?” He asked cautiously.

“No. I didn’t even mention that I was contemplating this, I didn’t know what chance I had of getting a hold of you in time, let alone you knowing his case.”

“I don’t - really, I just know *of* it.”

“And what do you know about the cop, the guy he attacked? One of the guards mentioned him in passing.”

John could tell there was more to it by the tone of her voice but didn’t press for information. Shaking his head, he considered his options. He knew some home truths about the man, opinions and facts that he’d heard pass through the high court offices and as much as he trusted Claire, she seemed to have a vested interest in Fraser and he didn’t want to lend hope to her cause where there was none.

Against his better judgement, though, he stuck to the truth - reciting as much as he felt able to divulge. “His name is Captain Jack Randall. Quite a decorated officer, he has been known to employ less than favourable methods of extraction when it comes to confessions but nothing has ever come from the claims. He’s like Marmite, it seems, either you love him or…” he took a deep breath; the truth, he told himself again, “you hate him.”

“John,” she asked, her spine tingling as she felt hope and fear mingle in her belly, “is there a chance that this...Randall...is stretching the truth? O-or that he caused the fight? To try and keep Jamie inside?”

“I don’t know, Claire. Honestly. I’d have to look further into it. But, and I’m playing devil's advocate here, absolutely anything is possible. It’s rare, but where there is corruption, it often runs deep.”

-- --- --

Throughout her next shift she ignored the feeling in her gut, the twinge of discomfort that had the power to render her immobile if she stopped to think about it for too long. Keeping her promise, she went to see Jamie one last time before they discharged him but they didn’t speak much. She wanted to reach out to him, to tell him about the conversation she’d had with John, but something told her that it was unfair to raise his hopes - especially with a new batch of guards on duty, two she did not know.

“Do you need anything?” She asked, placing the back of her hand lightly against his forehead mimicking the motions of checking his temperature to keep her hands busy. “Something more to eat, or your wounds redressed...just in case?” Without asking for further permission, though, she took the salve that she’d placed in the draw beside his bed and massaged a little more into the chafed sores that lined his wrists. She’d taken to silently doing this every day. The handcuffs that bound him rubbed, and she could tell he was bothered by it - though he would never say.

“Thank ye, nurse Beauchamp,” she could tell by his immediate formality that he was being wary, “but I dinna need anything more.”

“Take care of yourself, Mr Fraser.” She said, returning the sentiment.

Pulling the blanket up and over his stomach, she smiled sadly before returning back to her waiting patients. It was hard to leave him, much harder than she’d originally thought but John was a bloody good barrister. If anyone could help it was him.

The rest of the day dragged at an exceedingly slow pace and every moment she had time to herself she considered going back to check on him one last time. And every time she did, Glenna would raise a brow at her and subtly shake her head. There was nothing more she could do for now and loitering around would only arouse suspicion.

She did, however, hang around the nurses station long enough to watch the corridor clear as they led him away. Looking at his feet, he didn’t glance up though she willed him to, just for one last chance at reassurance. Her heart dropped in her chest the moment he was out of sight, a feeling of loneliness taking root in the base of her stomach.

“Come now, Claire,” Glenna whispered, rubbing her elbow gently, “final rounds before dinner, maybe Mrs Greaves will tell us another tale of her time in the army, aye?”

The red button on her answering machine was blinking wildly by the time she arrived home. As she threw her keys in the bowl beside the door and removed her shoes, she pressed play, put her work lanyard by her keys and half listened to the first message.

“Stupid spam companies.” She cursed as a woman with a cockney accent wittered on about accident claims. It wasn’t until she heard John’s voice that she began to fully pay attention. Quickly rewinding the tape, she replayed the message, the breath catching in her throat as hope swelled in her chest.

“Hi Claire, it’s me, John,” his manicured English accent seemed more prominent on the tape making each of his words clear and pronounced, “it turns out you were right about the fight. There’s video evidence from the security footage that shows the prisoners setting to your Mr Fraser. It’s too pixelated to make out what happened to start it, or what they used to cause him such damage but it’s enough for me to make a clear case for another hearing of his probation case. I called the hospital, they said you’d be off by midnight. Please get some rest now and meet me in the cafe at the end of your road for breakfast - we’ll talk more then.”

Pulling out her mobile, she penned him a quick message, a real smile covering her face as she slumped against the wall, relief coursing through her.

Morning seemed ages away, the hours ticking by slowly. Unable to relax, Claire sat in bed with a cup of tea and a new book. The mattress was comfy, a new one she’d purchased not long ago, and she couldn’t help but hope Jamie wasn’t in too much pain sleeping, once again, on his prison cot. The alarm woke her some time later as she blinked her eyes sleepily, sat upright in bed -her book now resting on her lap- and slid herself from beneath the sheets. Noting the time, she dressed quickly, pulling the scarf around her neck as she walked the few steps between her apartment and the tiny greasy spoon she occasionally purchased breakfast from.

John was already there, looking massively out of place in his suit and tie, supping quietly on his first cup of coffee. His first words to her, though, were only cautiously optimistic.

“I just have to warn you, Claire, there is still a lot standing between Fraser and his freedom. Remember, he attacked a policeman, he’s served half his jail time and has amassed a good record whilst being incarcerated. That,” he said, looking pointedly at her, “will work in his favour and now we can be certain he didn’t instigate or take part in the assault against himself it’ll make him seem more of a good candidate. But, there is one thing you have to know…”

She waited, certain that no matter what John said she was set on her course. “It won’t matter.” If they had cause to hide information about the skirmish to scupper his probation case, there was no telling what else they were capable of.

Surveying her expression, he could tell she wasn’t backing down. “He has no place of residence listed on his file. With no home, no accepting family, he’ll just be denied again. Once he’s served his time, in full, they’ll let him free without worrying too much about that. But for probation to be approved you need to provide evidence of a fixed, permanent address.”

“So...what if I offer mine up to him, just for the duration of his probation.”

“You do know how long that would be, don’t you?”

She didn’t, but she knew he’d clue her in.

“Four years, his total sentence is eight years.”

“Shit, John, he’s been inside since he was twenty!?” The colour drained from her face, her nails digging into the rough wooden table. Burying the shock, she swallowed, wrapping her hands around her small glass of water to keep herself still. “It doesn’t matter, I don’t care how long it would be for, my offer remains the same. If he needs a sponsor, I’ll do it.”

Sighing, John brought his hand to rest over hers. “This is all very gallant of you and I’m sure he’ll be really grateful to you, but I need you to seriously consider the consequences of this decision, of the choice you’re making.”

“I trust him, John. I know you think it’s madness, I can tell by the look in your eyes. And yes, I don’t really know him all that well. But I just *know*, something in my heart tells me this is the right thing to do, that he needs this. You didn’t see him after he got the news. You didn’t see his face, the fear etched deep behind his eyes. He’s terrified, John. Petrified. It might be a naive notion, but I got the distinct impression he didn’t feel safe going back there. For all we know, the damage might have already been done. But if anything else happens to him, I’ll never be able to forgive myself.”

“Alright then.” Squeezing the side of her palm, he took one last sip of his drink and placed the mug back onto the table. “Just know, though, if any harm comes to you, I’ll never forgive myself. And if he does something to jeopardize his probation, it may directly impact on you. On your home, your career...your wellbeing.”

“Thank you.” Resting her head against his shoulder, she breathed an easy breath, the scent of boiled coffee filling her lungs. “I really appreciate you taking the time to work on this for me.”

After a brief term dating at the beginning of university, John had confessed his true proclivities to Claire and they had turned into fast friends. His family, like hers, had a certain reputation and his parents were clear on his path. Degree, law school, marriage and kids; and though they hadn’t been outwardly disappointed by his confession when he’d finally worked up the guts to tell them, his relationship had suffered because of it.

Claire had stuck by him, had moved to Glasgow shortly after he’d been promoted here and had become more like a sister than a best friend. Her story had hit him harder than he cared to admit. With no remaining family of her own, she had a tendency to gravitate towards people who needed a home and even if Fraser turned out to be unworthy of her help, he knew she wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about it if she didn’t at least try.

“I’ll do what I can. It could take a while, a few weeks maybe, so don’t panic if we don’t have an answer immediately.”

“Will it take as long as the original hearing.”

“Six months? Gosh no. I could take up to a month, depending on whether the board drag their heels, but if we put a little pressure on them -not enough to anger them, mind- we should have an answer in a week or two.”

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